


When Love Potions Truly Work

by Wolfey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 6th year, Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Quidditch, Slash, Unapproved love, War, Wizards, love potion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:42:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 30,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfey/pseuds/Wolfey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is, as usual, coming up with unique ways to ruin Harry's day. Of course this one doesn't exactly go as planned, and the result is much worse than ones in the past. Their new found constant interaction causes a lot of complaints, but in the end they both realize it isn't all bad. AU. Draco/Harry</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **AU:** This is an alternate universe of Harry and Draco's sixth year. There are several differences, like Lupin still teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts, Snape is still Potions Master, ect.
> 
>  **Warning:** This is rated M because there will be some slash in later chapters. This is a particularly long story I'm making, and it will be as realistic as possible, so any smut will be way way wayyy over there in chapter 28 or something.
> 
>  **Schedule:** This is the schedule I made after I was halfway through writing the plot, which was difficult since I'd just written down random classes until then. Look at it, and please tell me if you find a mistake.
> 
>  
> 
> Draco-
> 
>  
> 
> Monday- _Morning; Care of Magical Creatures, After dinner; free period..._ Tuesday- _After breakfast; Potions, After lunch; Transfiguration..._ Wednesday- _Morning; Defense Against the Dark Arts, Before lunch; free period..._ Thursday- _Morning; free period, After dinner; Herbology..._ Friday- _Before lunch; Alchemy, After dinner; Ancient Runes_
> 
>  
> 
> Harry-
> 
>  
> 
> Monday- _Morning; Care of Magical Creatures, After dinner; free period..._ Tuesday- _After breakfast; Potions, After lunch; Transfiguration, Before dinner; Herbology..._ Wednesday- _Morning; Defense Against the Dark Arts, Before lunch; free period..._ Thursday- _Morning; free period, After lunch; Charms..._ Friday- _Before dinner; Ancient Runes, After dinner; free period_

* * *

**Draco's PoV**

Draco sat quietly inside his dorm room, working alone. It was a Monday and currently his free period. Normally he would be spending his time milling around Hogwarts grounds or inspecting the secrets of the Room of Requirement. It was the one room he actually liked in Hogwarts. The only room that truly reflected him.

However, today he was brewing a love potion. Surprisingly Goyle had suggested it as a joke. He hadn't expected either of the dolts to come up with a satisfactory idea, but this certainly was one. Draco was debating on who he would give it to; Hermionne or Ron? But what he did know was that one of Potter's best friends would be draping themselves on him for at least fourty-eight hours.

Draco himself didn't have too much of a problem with the supposed Chosen One, but he did have a reputation. And when an opportunity to humiliate Gryffindors arrived, just about the whole of Slytherin expected him to strike. Had Potter accepted his hand during his first year he wouldn't have to put in so much effort into bullying the Golden Trio. It was a pain in his arse.

Sighing quietly, Draco returned to his brew. Draco had always been good at potions, and help from Severus was appreciated as well. Scattered around him were several ingredients, measuring devices and a cauldron.

A copper cauldron, he might add.

He cracked three more Ashwinder eggs into the cauldron, mixed it lightly with the dash of peppermint, and then added a spoonful of rose thorns. Fifteen minutes of stirring, another extract of peppermint and three pints of powdered moonstone and the simmering potion was done.

Spooning a small amount out of the cauldron, he placed it into a tiny vial. Draco decided it'd be more humiliating and uncomfortable if he used it on Weasel King, so he stood up and enchanted the potion. It now whispered 'Harry Potter' delicately. When he slipped this into the redhead's drink the potion would direct all his thoughts to the Boy Who Lived.

Smiling smugly, Draco dusted his robes off lightly before waving his wand and watching as the various ingredients closed their lids and hopped over to the bottom drawer of his second dresser. Then he collected the rest of the love potion, stored it in a tightly sealed bottle and levitated his cauldron away.

Draco left his dorm feeling satisfied with the potion's outcome. Shame it had to be used on such pests.

Exiting from the portrait in the common room, Draco made his way upstairs from the dungeon. He needed to meet his two goons. The school day was almost over, and he wanted them to administer the potion tomororow at breakfast.

On his way up Draco almost rammed into a group of second-year Hufflepuffs. Having not been looking where he was going, Draco skidded and fell to the ground, a pink substance pouring from its vial and onto his face.

Draco was too busy being consumed by the taste of the love potion he'd just swallowed to notice the pale and shaking Hufflepuffs starring at him in fear.

What was that taste?

Coffee with caramel, coconut and cream. Fudge-covered strawberries. Honey-drapped Baklava.

It was a delicious mixture of a billion delicacies, so good he couldn't even describe it. Draco marveled at the taste, before he remembered he had someone very important to speak with.

Harry Potter.

Standing up Draco brushed off his robes and smiled politely at the quivering second-years who were stumbling over themselves in apology. Draco had a reputation among everyone- and it wasn't for being forgiving. "Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going! My bad, I'll see you later." Draco said calmly before he turned and walked away, leaving behind four shocked and relieved Hufflepuffs.

He dashed up two stairs at a time, simply enjoying his good mood. Thoughts about his trick on Ron and love potion brew were forgotten. All he could think about was Harry.

'Why haven't I stared into those green eyes yet? Their so vibrant and lush. And his hair...ruffled yet perfect, just like the rest of him!' Draco thought, continuing down a random hall, waving at passing students (who starred at him in wary confusion). He continued thinking about Harry and his flawless skin and muscled body and plump, kissable lips. And that famous scar that only made him sexier.

Eventually the time for sleep came and Draco found himself in the dungeons, slipping into the Slytherin common room easily. Inside was Blaise, Goyle and Crabbe, Daphne, two seven years he didn't know and Pansy. Pansy skipped over to him almost immediately, pulling him closer to her by his arm.

"Draco," She whined dramatically, starring up at him through mascara-covered eyelashes. "Where'd you go? You were supposed to meet me earlier..." She reached up and kissed him smoothly on the cheek. Draco recoiled immediately, shoving her away from him. She starred at him in surprise and anger.

"Drakey? What was that for?!"

"There's only one person I want snogging me, and that person isn't you."

His thoughts went back to Harry, all black haired, green eyed and beautiful. "Wha...who is this other girl?!" Pansy shrieked, glaring and pouting. "He," Draco emphasized, "Is the most beautiful person in the world!" Draco whispered dreamily.

"Hey, Malfoy, did you...er...finish the potion?" Turning, he pointed at Goyle. "What potion? It wasn't something cruel, was it?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow and walked over to Draco. "You alright, mate?" He turned to Blaise and smiled. "Blaise! You are such a good friend! Have I told you that? I'm sorry I haven't told you that." He grabbed Blaise by the shoulders and grinned, before spinning and going into his dorm room.

Once again he left a group of stunned students behind.

* * *

Draco woke up in the same good mood as before, and he got dressed cheerfully. His fellow Slytherins were already awake when he descended into the common room.

Narrowly avoiding Pansy's attempt to grab him, he left from the portrait, not bothering to see if the boys behind him would follow. Normally when Draco made his trip to the Great Hall there was an air around him that said, 'I am royalty, you're lucky to breath the same oxygen'.

This time, however, he didn't crowd the hall and cause students to hop out of the way. Draco stepped out of the way of everyone, smiled at every passing student and almost skipped across the smooth floor.

Once again his Slytherin friends were concerned. "Draco, you alright?" Blaise repeated, "Why're you so eager today?" "Harry Potter." Draco replied in an adoring tone. Even the two dunces were worried, and they shared a look with Blaise.

"Draco...why don't we take you to Madam Pompfry, you seem a bit-" But Blaise was cut off when they stopped in front of the Great Hall and Draco yelled out, "HARRY!"

Draco swiftly left his friends and bounced into a chair on the Gryffindor table, right in front of Harry Potter himself. The majority of Gryffindor had noticed, and they were starring. Harry leaned back in surprise, before his gaze darkened. "What do you want, Malfoy?" The green-eyed boy said coldly.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?" Draco started, ignoring Harry's question. "They're so pretty. Like emerald gems, and they sparkle." Draco had reached across the table and twirled a finger in one of Harry's black locks. "Woah! Your hair is even smoother than I imagined..." He exclaimed in awe.

By this time all Four Houses were starring at Draco. Knowledge of Malfoy's hatred toward Harry was well known, and no one was prepared for this.

"Malfoy, wh-what are you 'doing'?!" Harry sputtered, slapping away Draco's hand.

Draco starred at him like he was a piece of treasure. Then he got serious. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry. I was so terribly mean all that time, but you'll forgive me right?" His expression brightened, "Of course you will, Harry. You're so noble and kind and courageous and handsome."

The entire Great Hall was silent, everyone anxious to hear what was going on.

"Just what are you getting at, Malfoy?" Ron snapped, a bit of something that sounded like fear in his voice.

Draco turned and suddenly grabbed both of Ron's hands in his. "Ron, Ron I'm sorry to you too! You're not all that bad-" "Did you just call me Ron?!" "-I rather like your hair now that I'm looking at it."

Ron glanced at Harry with a look that said, 'He's gone bloody mental!' Draco out of nowhere grabbed Ron but the cheeks and pulled him so he was starring right into his eyes. "You don't like Harry, do you, Ron? Because Harry's mine and I'd hate to have to take you out of the pictur-"

Draco stopped mid-sentence as Crabbe and Goyle gripped him by the arms and started dragging him away. "Guyys," Draco whined. "I was talking to Harry! Where are we going? Bye Harry, I love you, BYE!" Draco called before the doors closed behind him.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **THANKS** for all the kudos you've left me, really appreciated!

After Draco hauled away from a shocked Great Hall, his fellow Slytherins tried to hassle him to Madame Pomfrys. He evaded them, claiming there was nothing wrong with him.

They made him promise to go after school anyways.

Draco smiled dazedly as he made his way to Potions. Harry would be there. Of course Harry would get an Outstanding or better on his OWLs and NEWTs. He was smart and kind and brave and beautiful and perfect.

Draco could talk about him all day long.

He entered the room with Blaise. He spotted Harry right away, and shoved Ron out of the chair next to Harry. Draco sat in the chair. Below him, on the ground, Ron sputtered.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, just throw me would 'ya?!" Ron yelled as he stood up. The redhead lurched forward, about to move Draco, when a voice at the edge of the room ordered, "Sit down Mr. Weasley. You already disrupt my class enough." Snape walked up to his desk, all black and billowing robes.

Ron frowned and went to sit next to Dean Thomas. Class started pretty simply, with Snape lecturing about the potion they'd be doing today.

As Snape drifted down the aisles he gave Draco an odd look and stopped in front of the two partners. "I see you've taken Draco as a partner, Mr. Potter. I hope you won;'t affect his mind with the stupidity of yours-" Snape had barely finished the sentence when he felt a test tube thrown at him.

Draco was standing up and glaring at his godfather. He loved Snape, but how _dare_ he! Anyone who insulted his one true love would get harsh treatment."What is the meaning of this?!" Snape roared. "Harry doesn't have a stupid mind! He's smarter than me, you and anyone in between!"

Snape turned and glared at Harry. "What have you done to him, Potter?!"

"Harry didn't do anything," The blonde insisted. "Harry's too perfect!" Harry and the rest of the class was starring at Draco. "Mr. Peakes, Mr. Rookwood, take Draco to Madame Pomfry. 20 points from Gryffindor.:

Jimmy and Joseph went up to Draco and grabbed him and pushed him out of the Potions room.

Behind him an annoyed Harry called, "Why?!" "He didn't give the love potion to himself, Potter. You can have detention as well."

* * *

About an hour later Draco was sipping on the antidote, very, very annoyed. Blaise and the Goons were in the Infirmary with him, explaining what a spectacle he'd made.

He couldn't believe it. After all that work he'd spilled the bloody potion on himself.

And briefly fallen in love with Harry fucking Potter.

At least everyone thought it was Potter's fault. Draco wouldn't change that. Admitting he'd swallowed the potion would just make the whole situation worse.

Crabbe and Goyle finished the recap of the past day or so, and Draco downed the rest of the hate potion to make absolutely sure all the fuzziness was gone. He almost wanted to disinfect himself. The whole thing was embarrassing. Why the Boy Who Lived? Why not...one of the other ones?! Sure, the rumors would go away at some point...

Months and months from now.

His friends were looking at him, and he realized they must be waiting for something.

"What?"

"So how did you get the potion?" Crabbe asked.

Draco thought of several excuses on how it would've happened, but they were all implausible. So, he settled for, "I don't know." After all, no one would blame him. They might not think Potter had done it, but no one would come up with him accidentally swallowing a potion. "I always knew Potter was mad. I didn't know he'd do anything this bad." Draco hissed, easily making the venom in his voice believable.

He knew his friends were relieved. He was sure Potter wasn't the only one he'd freaked out. The whole situation had kept Pansy away, at least for a little. Probably the only good thing to come out of this.

Draco stood up from his chair and smoothed down his robes. He'd missed lunch but he wasn't hungry.

He walked out of the infirmary and made his way to Transfiguration. There was a lot of walking and moving stairs, but it was his sixth year. He knew what he was doing. Draco didn't need to look behind him- he knew Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle were following him.

Sure enough on his way there was Potter. For once Draco wanted to strangle the boy for himself and not through the influence of his friends. Logically he knew none of this was _truly_ Potter's fault, but he liked to have someone to blame.

So as he passed The Boy Who Lived he spoke up. "I know you can't help that you fell for me, but there are better ways to portray one's feelings." Draco gave Potter a signature smirk and continued down the hall.

Maybe that was a little vain, even for him, but the blonde wasn't too modest. He was good looking, more so than several of the other Slytherins(see Crabbe and Goyle), and knew a lot of girls liked him and/or wanted to get in his pants; Pansy especially.

Of course the same things applied to Potter, but he wouldn't ever admit that.

He entered the class grumpily and was joined at a table by Blaise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Sorry:** It's much shorter. I'll try to make it longer next time. ^^


	3. Chapter 3

**Harry's PoV**

Malfoy passed him this time with insults rather than compliments and Harry was reminded of the whole ordeal yet again.

He wasn't sure whether he preferred Malfoy to be a prat or be loving, but he was sure he was uncomfortable with both.

It was creepy how Malfoy had been the past day. He had on a genuine smile and was content with just starring at him and touching his hair. Worse yet, he had been blamed for how Malfoy had been acting.

No one should put it past Harry or Ron using a love potion on that snake, but they wouldn't make Malfoy fall for themselves, and they didn't have the skills to make a potion.

Anyone who asked Snape would know that.

It was ridiculous and pissed Harry off. He huffed and went into class where Ron already was. Proffesor McGonagal came in soon after, starting class immediately. She explained today's assignment and wave her wand. "You all shall be turning this chest into a Crup. I expect the Crup to have both tails and none of the chest's markings." She told everyone as the chests appeared. "Find a partner."

Harry leaped up to grab a chair next to Ron when Proffesor McGonagall stopped him. "Oh no, Mr. Potter. Since you wish to be near Mr. Malfoy so much you two can be partners in all your classes."

McGonagal was eyeing Malfoy and Harry could tell she knew he hadn't made the love potion.

Malfoy glared at Harry and came over, annoyance all over his face. "Couldn't stay away, could you, Potter?" He snapped. "None of this was my fault, Malfoy, and you know it!" Harry replied, looking at their chest. "Besides, _you_ were the one draping yourself over me!" Malfoy turned and snarled, "Which _your_ potion made me do!"

The Slytherin Prince snatched the chest out of his reach and took out his wand. "Hey!" "Oh please, you'll just kill the Crup with your 'talent', Potter." Malfoy waved his wand and said the correct spell.

The chest expanded and grew a few legs, but did not become a Crup.

Harry laughed and told him, "At least I _have_ talent!" Malfoy glared at him. "I can't possibly concentrate with you here, Potter!" "Excuses, gimme that!"

Harry snatched away the Crup/chest and repeated the spell. The chest rounded at the edges and grew the head of a Crup.

"Congrats, Potter, you've made a walking, barking chest!" Malfoy grumbled.

As the class continued they never made it right. Instead they settled for arguing, insults and pointing out one another mistakes. By the end of Transfiguration class their chest was so jumbled up with Crup parts Proffesor McGonagall took it before they could do more damage.

Harry got out of the room as soon as the bell rang and stormed down the hall. Why couldn't Malfoy ever be a decent person? He was worse than Dudley. The rest of school would be hell if he had to be partners with him in all four classes they had together.

If Harry didn't hate him so much he might ask for a truce.

If Harry didn't know him so well he thought he might accept it.

Harry burst into Herbology and sat down next to Ron, his anger obvious. "Malfoy got your knickers in a twist?" Ron said. "You were there, you said all of _that_!" Harry grumbled, pulling out his book about plants.

"I just heard a lot of whimpers from the chest." Ron replied. Harry shook his head. "I mean, I know I'm not that good at Transfiguration, alright? But then Malfoy, who is also terrible, won't admit it! He just goes on and on about how everything is _my_ fault and how he just can't 'concentrate'. You would think he would've matured just a little over the years."

"He's a prick." Ron replied, shaking his head. "Wish we didn't have to deal with him."

Harry slowly eased out of his bad mood as the class went on. Herbology was a pretty stressless class most of the time. When it ended he and Ron left. They made their way into the hallways and toward the Great Hall.

As they passed through the large floor-to-ceiling doors Harry was startled by a pale hand grabbing him by the collar.

Harry lifted his head to look into the gray orbs of Draco Malfoy. The slightly taller Slytherin was glaring at him and a few inches from choking him.

"You better pray this whole potion episode fades from everyone's minds real soon, Potter!" Malfoy growled at him.

Harry's good mood disappeared. He gritted his teeth and returned Draco's glare. "But he was interrupted by a group of Gryffindor third years. "Oh Harry, your beautiful eyes!" One of them mocked. Malfoy turned his stare from Harry to the other students.

"Careful, Harry, Malfoy is a bit possessive!" The students walked off, cackling. Malfoy immediately let go of Harry, almost shoving him, and took a step back. Harry rolled his eyes. It was almost sad how much the Slytherin cared about what people thought.

Harry almost tripped again when the silver-eyed wizard jabbed his finger at Harry's chest. "I will not have my reputation ruined this way." Malfoy gave him one last glare before he spun on heel and stalked over to the Slytherin table.

Harry starred after him for a few moments before he stomped over to his own table, Ron and Hermione following.

"He's unbelievable!" Harry exclaimed. How many years had he been prosecuted? He was already the Boy Who Lived, he was front page news no matter what he did. No matter how many times he helped the school he was always doubted and insulted.

Then Malfoy, who has already built up a horrible reputation, freaks out when a few rumors are spread around. He was acting like his life was over!

Harry chomped furiously on a biscuit and then cut into his pear.

From across the table Ron starred in horror, muttering something about 'abusing food'.

After some time in the common room Harry was able to recover his good mood and sleep as peacefully as he could.

* * *

 

He made his way to breakfast by himself, Ron had only just woken up, and ate quietly with Hermione. Harry finished quickly and made his way to his next class. He was in a fine mood, the events of yesterday forgotten, until he entered Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Malfoy was already seated, alone and glaring at him.

Harry immediately returned the glare and then walked up to his teacher.

Remus Lupin was a friend and a generally reasonable person. A werewolf, yes, but no one else knew about _that_. Despite his rags of robes he wasn't dirty in personality.

Harry stood in front of him and smiled. "Hello, Lupin. I was wondering-" "I can't switch your partner, Harry, I'm sorry." Lupin gave him an apologetic look before going back to his work. Harry grimaced and trudged over to their table.

He ignored the Slytherin next to him and hunkered down into his book.

Lupin stood in front of the class, commanding with ease. "For the next week or so you all will be working with a partner to research a dangerous creature." He informed the class.

"You will present it on the due date, which I will give out next week. For now I will give out whatever you are assigned to."

Professor Lupin walked down the aisles, giving each pair a creature. He landed in front of Harry, giving him another apologetic smiles. "You two will be research Inferius."

Harry nodded.

Malfoy replied with a blank stare.

Class was over a few minutes after Lupin finished assigning, and Harry hustled out of there.

* * *

He slowed when he spotted Hermione coming toward him. She had a free period, the only one, before lunch along with him, and insisted on studying. Ron rushed by him with a quick, "See you later." before he continued to Muggle Studies, his red head disappearing into the crowd.

Harry smiled at Hermione and stopped in front of her. "Hey." "Draco again?" She asked. Harry huffed and nodded. "Yes. I don't even know why he irks me so much!" "He probably feels the same way about you." Harry laughed but it held no humor. Malfoy had told him many times why he disliked him, one of the reasons being the female in front of him.

Harry shook his head and started off toward the library. Hermione was about to follow when a voice behind them yelled, "Hey, Potter!"

Harry turned and spotted Malfoy coming toward him. Harry reached for his wand and gritted his teeth.

"I'm going to blast him into next year..." Harry hissed.

The Slytherin stopped in front of him, Harry was about to raise his wand- "We have to study." Malfoy told him, looking annoyed.

Harry stopped and lowered his slightly raised wand.

"I- what?"

"Yes, Potter, I did not come for a duel, although you seem to think otherwise," Malfoy replied, glancing at the wand in Harry's hand.

"We have to study. For Lupin's project."

Harry starred at him, still surprised. First of all that he had acted so harshly when Malfoy was simply walking toward him. Secondly, he didn't think the prat would do any work.

"I, uh," "Quit stuttering, Potter, I don't have all day!" "I'm already studying with Hermione!" Harry pointed at her, feeling stupid.

Malfoy moved his silver gaze to Hermione, a look of disgust crossed his features, and then he sighed. "Then I'll just have to join you." He informed with a false smile.


	4. Chapter 4

The Slytherin sauntered off in the direction of the library.

Hermione went after him and Harry followed. He didn't expect this. It was... it was _Malfoy_. The silver-eyed boy hated Muggle-borns and Harry was sure Hermione was at the top of the list.

As they entered the library Malfoy quickly disappeared behind a shelf. He met them at the table moments later, tossing a book to Harry.

Still a little stunned, Harry stared at it dumbly for a few moments before he actually absorbed the title; _Confronting the Faceless_.

Finally he spoke up.

"I'm surprised you can stand to be around Hermione, Malfoy. I assume you think she might infect you."

Malfoy didn't look up from his book. "I don't fuck around with school work, Potter. One of the few skills you could learn from your Muggle-born friend."

Hermione stopped reading and looked up at him.

"Was that a compliment, Draco?"

The fair-haired boy's mouth twitched, perhaps due to Hermione calling him by his first name.

He still didn't look up. "Call it what you will, Granger."

The rest of the study time was quiet, the talking slim. Harry read up on the Inferni. Malfoy eventually pulled out some parchment. Harry grabbed his quill and moved over to help.

The essay was just about done when it was almost time for lunch. Malfoy stood up and started rolling the essay up. "Malfoy where are you taking that?" Harry asked, standing up along with him. "Well I can't let your grimy hands contaminate it." Malfoy replied, before exiting with grace.

And there went Harry's good mood.

Harry had unknowingly slept in for most of Thursday. He was free of classes until after dinner, but he'd missed breakfast and lunch during his rest.

Brushing his hair (though it had no effect) and straightening his robes, Harry was able to hustle to the Great Hall in time for a few bites.

Harry filled himself up even more than Ron, before following his best friend into Charms.

Professor Flitwick started the class. They were studying how to do Charms without speaking.

"I heard you studied with Malfoy." Ron stated, flipping through his Charms book. Harry nodded. "Yeah," He paused, realizing his best mate didn't sound to happy about it. "He followed us into the library, I really had no choice."

Ron seemed a little more satisfied with that. Harry hated Malfoy, but Ron hated him even more. The Malfoys and Weasleys had always been enemies, and nothing would ever change that.

"How was it?" The redhead asked. "It was okay at first, sort of. But Malfoy is more demanding than Hermione."

"If that's possible." Ron interrupted, rolling his eyes. Hermione was worse than the teachers, having the two of them study all the time. "Yes. And he's equipped with copious amounts of insults, so time with him can never be enjoyable."

His best friend nodded, a sour expression on his face. The conversation moved from the annoying Slytherin to more lighter topics as class went on, and Charms ended quickly.

Harry had a rather nice sleep.

* * *

**Draco's PoV**

Draco left the library with plenty of time to get to Alchemy. He'd spent most of his time studying that Friday, and was almost reluctant to leave.

Save seeing him across the room during breakfast, he had avoided Potter all day so far. Draco has wanted to slap the fool who had given the Slytherins so many classes with the Gryffindors, Draco was almost positive that bearded Headmaster had scheduled his classes.

Classes with Potter, one day after another.

Damn Dumbledore.

But holed up in the back corner surrounded by books was probably the last place Potter and his lazy friends would go.

Granger was different but he didn't appreciate her company either.

Alchemy was almost as enjoyable as Potions class, and it didn't have a certain horribly-dressed Gryffindor, so it was even higher on his list of favorite subjects.

Draco sat down at an empty table, a few other Slytherins and some Ravenclaws in the class. Within a few minutes more tickled in and Draco was joined by Blaise.

Their Alchemy professor joined the class as well and got them started on their work.

Draco turned to Blaise with a huff. "Merlin, all week it's been hell." "I heard." "Potter is as horrible at homework as I thought, maybe even worse. I had to deal with a bloody Mudblood in order to get anything done. Damn Potter wouldn't even shut up long enough for me to _try_ and be civil."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, looking up from his work for a moment. "Why bother being civil?"

Draco arranged some of the metals and put them in the cauldron. "Unlike him I do want to succeed in school, and arguing constantly doesn't help."

Besides, Potter always thought he was spoiled. Sure he would take being rich over being a _Weasley_ (Merlin forbid) any day but wealth came with a price. It was not an easy job to make daddy happy all the time so that he didn't cut you off. His father was also surprisingly tight-fisted. Wealthy people were known, and appearances had to be kept up.

So Draco had to work just as hard as the rest of them to get good grades for a job. The only difference was he had connections.

Adding a few pieces of seaweed to the mix, Draco continued stirring. Alchemy was odd but fun.

"Your feelings toward Potter are almost obsessive," Blaise connected. "Just ignore him like I do."

Draco scoffed but chose not to reply. These kinds of statements were always traps.

As a Malfoy he had keep his emotions in check and sentences like that were always to test a person's reaction. And when one was defensive everyone always thought it was denial.

Blaise was a good friend, but Draco wouldn't tell him something he didn't want anyone to know. Blaise wasn't a gossiper like Pansy, but he was so indifferent about everything that if someone asked the right question, Blaise would say whatever was on his mind.

Unless it affected him, Blaise was honest- and brutally so.

Alchemy was a quiet class, with less lectures and more hands-on work, so time passed quietly and quickly. Draco finished before the bell and packed away his things. On his way to lunch he was unfortunately reminded that Potter would be there, but he wasn't bothered.

Talk about the potion had died down enough that Draco didn't hear too much. Only a few girls whispered whenever they passed him.

Draco mostly slept during the weekend. He studied but outside of meals Saturday and Sunday had little activity.

Although on Monday he had Care of Magical Creatures in the morning with Potter and that bearded oaf, Hagrid was simply showing them some Mugwumps so Draco didn't have to partner with Boy Wonder.

After dinner Draco stayed in the Slytherin common room, not really involved in the group conversation.

Pansy was sitting on the armchair next to him, chattering about something he could care less about. She had only started talking to him today. During his time under the love potion he had upset her, so she'd ignored him for a little while before deciding it was not _really_ his fault.

The girl was so dramatic that if he wasn't on the receiving end he would find it funny.

Draco wanted to do more than talk, maybe play Wizard Chess or something, but he'd beaten enough people to know playing anyone else would be easy. So Draco left the common room, went into his spacious dorm and slept.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco woke up in a good mood. He got dressed calmly and then went into the bathroom. He washed his face and then grabbed his brush and wand.

Ten minutes of every day was dedicated to fixing up his hair.

Once Draco was satisfied with how his hair was slicked back he straightening his robes and left the dorm. Blaise was already in the common room, and Thomas Nott came to join them.

Breakfast was delicious, as usual, but it would never reach the satisfaction Draco got from the foreign delicacies he ate at the Malfoy Manor.

His parents spoiled him with food, he'd say that much. Gold-dipped strawberries from Dubai were a favorite. Among others he'd gotten some kind of insect arrangement from Asia. It was not good.

Draco left the Great Hall with several other Slytherins. Not too many people from his House were in Advanced Potions, it was a hard class.

Upon entering Draco spotted Potter already seated and scowled.

"How you even got into this class is a mystery to me." Draco clucked, moving into the seat next to him. "Neither do I." muttered Potter, sounding annoyed.

Good.

Snape descended upon the class, his robes as black as usual. In his usual cold, dull, emotionless voice he started the lesson.

"Today each of you will be proving you have learned the necessary skills to proceed in my class. You will be brewing the Draught of Peace. If you make it correctly perhaps the fumes will make this class less hectic."

Snape came around and drawled off the names of who would be partnered. He didn't bother saying Draco or Potter's name.

Draco turned to Potter. "Go on. Grab the powdered moonstone and powdered unicorn." "Wha-" "And make sure they're ripe."

The green-eyed boy stood up and shuffled over to the supplies. Luckily there were labels, because Draco doubted Potter knew which ingredients were which by memory.

The syrup of hellebore and powdered porcupine quills were already on the table, so Draco got everything in order.

His partner came back with the correct amount of ingredients, but almost dropped them as he set them down.

"Blimey, Potter, can you get any clumsier?!" Draco hissed, taking the supplies from Potter's reach. He took out his Potions book and flipped to the correct page. Then he moved over.

"Alright. You'll stir and I'll hand off the ingredients." Draco told him. "Oh yeah, sure, don't ask my opinion or anything." Potter grumbled but complied.

As they started, Draco could already tell this would be a disaster. Draco measured each item correctly, but the Boy Who Lived must have been deaf and blind during the past 5 years of Potions.

Draco had to continuously scold him, and about eight different times Potter almost ruined it all. He was a sloppy stirrer, and impatient. After the potion was purple they were supposed to wait for it to turn pink. Potter was rushing and demanded they add the hellebore before it was too late.

It was infuriating.

"No, you need to shake the quills _vigorously!_ Shake them, not sprinkle them like you would salt! Merlin, can you even read?" Draco snapped.

His partner stopped what he was doing and dropped the stirring spoon.

"Fine, then you just do it!" He barked.

Draco gave him a sarcastic smile. "I was waiting for you to say that."

He immediately started stirring, stopping when the potion turned orange. After a few more porcupine quills and powdered unicorn horn Draco paused to let it simmer.

"See, Potter? See how much better I am than you?" Out of his peripheral vision he saw Potter glaring.

Deeming this the end of the conversation, Draco went back to the Draught of Peace. It was now purple, so Draco added some crushed moonstone. He was surprised when Potter leaned in and whispered, "You're right,"

Draco stopped what he was doing and sniffed the air. Maybe he'd made the Draught of Peace a little too strong.

"We both know I didn't make that love potion." Potter finished.

Draco turned to look at him and gave him the famous Malfoy smirk. "Yes. I made it. Anyone who's seen your potion-making 'skills' would know that."

Potter stared back at him in silence before recovering. "If you made it why did you blame it on me?"

Draco gave a laugh at that. Potter was almost worse than Crabbe and Goyle when it came to figuring out situations like this.

"You honestly think I'd tell everyone, 'Oops, I tripped and accidentally swallowed a love potion- and it just happened to be for Harry Potter.' Not only is that hard to believe, but it would cause trouble for my reputation."

"A reputation for being a total git?" Potter retorted. Draco scoffed and turned back to the potion. It was orange now. He grabbed three more quills and stirred them in. Slowly it became a lighter, creamy color.

"Malfoys do not trip," Draco informed him. "Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs trip. I will always be better than you at everything, Potter,"

The Draught of Peace was finished at a white color. "Including Potions." When Draco finished Snape walked over to the table. "Excellent work, Draco. No thanks to you, Potter."

Draco grinned at his godfather as he passed. "See."

"I'm better than you at plenty of things, Malfoy! One of which is flying!"

"Ha! You're not oh-so-great at Quidditch without that team of yours, Potter."

The end of class sounded and Draco stood up, grabbing his books. "Oh, really? Want to test that?" Potter said behind him. "One-on-one, after lunch, tomorrow."

Draco paused and then glanced over his shoulder. "A Malfoy does not need to prove anything," Draco started to leave. "But for you, Potter, anything."

Draco left the dungeons annoyed. He was annoyed because he was looking forward to tomorrow. Not because of Harry Potter, no, of course not. But rather it was an excuse to fly.

As much as everyone thought he was only in Quidditch because his father was rich and influential, Draco prided himself on being a decent Seeker. Draco had good eyes, the right shade and skill. He was a fast flier, and not just because of his broom.

Pissed him off that Potter thought he could win so easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all your support!  
> I've gotten several comments and such about how the story is good, and you all should be getting a chapter every week!


	6. Chapter 6

**Harry's PoV**

The rest of the day passed pretty quickly- although he had Transfiguration with Malfoy it'd been much easier. The class had pretty much been a study day, so there were no arguments or abused Crups.

Herbology was busy yet not boring. And soon enough the day was over.

On Wednesday Defense Against the Dark Arts was also a study period. There was no need for partners, so Harry sat with Ron and Malfoy with Blaise. When the class ended Harry wondered around for his free period.

Harry hadn't flown for several months. He loved flying. It was beautiful and thrilling, he felt free whenever he got on his broom.

His Firebolt made Quidditch even more fun with the fluent speed it gave him.

As he came onto the grass in the midst of Hogwarts he spotted Ron.

Harry made his way over to his best friend. "Hey Harry." "Hello, Ron. Where's Hermione?" "Off doing...I don't know, studying probably." Ron replied.

Harry nodded and smiled, sitting down. "So guess what I am doing after lunch?" Ron shrugged. "What?"

"A one-on-one Quidditch match-" "Awesome!" "-with Draco Malfoy."

His friend snapped his mouth shut and starred at him. " _Malfoy?!_ That prat?! He'll probably cheat, that match is not going to be safe."

Harry sighed and looked at the redhead. "It was my idea." Harry added.

Ron gave him a dark look. "Why the fuck would you want to have a one-on-one with him?"

"So you know the whole love potion issue? Malfoy did know I didn't make it. In fact, he made it."

"What?" Ron gasped, surprised. "Why would he want to fall in love with you?" "He said he tripped. He was probably gonna use it on you or someone else. Point is, he did it. So I'm gonna make him bet to tell everyone what really happened if I win."

Ron bore an almost Slytherin smile. "And you'll of course win. Harry you're brilliant." The ginger clapped him on the back and stood up. "C'mon let's go get lunch."

Harry followed his friend to the Great Hall, where they met up with Hermione. She conquered the conversation, suddenly going on and on about something from _'Hogwarts A History.'_ The halls were crowded quickly. Traveling one of the many paths to the Great Hall, Harry had time to think.

As much as he didn't like it, Malfoy was a smart guy. He might not say it out loud, but unlike Ron Harry could spot the few good things about the Slytherin. He was intelligent. Excellent in Potions, unfortunately. Good at getting what he wanted. Good at keeping secrets. Good looking...

Harry shook his head. That was the one thing Harry would not acknowledge, not even in his head.

Dismissing his other thoughts Harry went back to his original point. This was Draco Malfoy. Even if he did agree to the bet there was no chance he would go through with it. Malfoy was the most selfish guy Harry knew, save Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and did everything only for himself. He had pride, but Harry was pretty sure Malfoy cared more about his reputation.

And if Malfoy did go through with it, would anyone believe that?

It sounded odd to Harry; to trip and swallow a love potion.

As he and his friends finally arrived at the Great Hall Harry shook himself of the thoughts.

Harry slowly tuned out of the conversation his best friends were having. Taking a spoonful of some kind of custard, he found his eyes wondering to across the room.

The blond was talking rapidly, everyone around him listening attentively. _Reputation my arse,_ thought Harry.

Malfoy was rich, powerful and manipulative. No one would bother him, at least not to his face.

Harry starred at the Slytherin with a glare. Malfoy gave him way too much trouble- as if homework and tests and failing at being a hero weren't enough.

Malfoy had cooed some joke and practically his whole table started laughing. Then the blond moved and caught Harry's gaze. Before Harry could look away the other boy smiled devilishly and gave him a wink.

Harry flushed and turned to stare at his food.

Harry stayed late for lunch, making sure his body and nerve were ready for the match. He made his way to the Quidditch field slowly. His Quidditch robes from the last season were still in the locker room and he changed quickly. When he emerged he was met by Malfoy.

"Come now, Potter, I don't have all day." The taller boy told him, shifting to release something. "Was that the Snitch?" "No, it was a flying, golden potato." Malfoy retorted, giving him a look.

Harry grimaced and walked further onto the field. "Ready, Potter? You can chicken out if you'd like." Harry resisted the urge to shove him.

Malfoy grabbed his Nimbus Two Thousand and One- which had been floating lightly above the ground- and swung onto it.

"Wait!" Harry called. Malfoy turned toward him. "Hm?" The other boy asked, obviously annoyed.

"I, um," Harry paused, thinking again at how to word his question. "I wanted to make a bet." Above him Malfoy looked at him in silence. Then he burst out laughing.

"Gryffindors really are as dumb as they say," Malfoy drawled. Harry flushed and took a step back. "You really think I'd fall for that? Like I'd agree to tell everyone about the potion if you won."

"Bugger." Harry cursed, his head hung in defeat. Of _course_ Malfoy would figure that out. Trudging over to his Firebolt Harry got onto it and floated up. Malfoy drifted in front of him.

"I will still do a bet, it should be amusing," The blond tapped his chin. "How about; whoever loses has to announce that the other's House is the best?"

Harry looked back up at the Slytherin, a little surprised at what Malfoy was risking. He nodded and gripped his broom tighter.

"Last chance to back out, Potter." Malfoy informed him. "Let's go." Harry replied.

Harry and Malfoy blasted off into the sky. It was the afternoon and there was plenty of light. Each student watched the other closely. Harry kept his eyes open wide, surveying the whole field. He flew slowly across the vast sky, diving toward every and any glint of gold. About forty minutes later neither of them had seen the Snitch clear enough to even have a minute chase with it. Then, Harry saw it.

Harry shot his Firebolt down at full speed, maneuvering to the left where the Snitch was. Out of his peripheral he saw Malfoy speeding after him. Had he not been paying attention to the Snitch Harry might have noticed that the Slytherin flew pretty well.

Harry reached forward, stretching his fingers, and almost jumped from his broom trying to catch the Snitch. "Yes!" Harry yelled with a whoop, the rush catching the Snitch gave him filling him with joy.

" _Fuck!_ " An annoyed voice said behind him. Harry was reminded of Malfoy.

The fair haired boy was angry with his defeat, that much was obvious. He was gripping his broom harshly, enough to cause splinters, and gritting his teeth. Harry's attention was taken by a single drop of sweat descending down Malfoy's neck and disappearing under the collar the other boy's robes. Harry wondered what else it would slide over; the skin hidden under all that cloth.

Harry had never looked at Malfoy after the Quidditch games in the past, but now he couldn't stop starring.

Malfoy's hair was wet and stuck close to his pale skin. The sun glistened off the Slytherin's tired body, giving him a bright shading.

He was...pretty. Handsome.

Then Malfoy's sharp grey gaze locked on his. "There is _no way_ you're making me do that bet, Potter!"

Harry snapped out of his daze, flushed, and looked down. "Don't make a bet if you can't take the consequences." Harry replied, trying to make his voice sound harsh.

"This," Malfoy told him, fury in his tone. "Will only make everything worse! As if everything wasn't bad enough."

Harry huffed and slowly floated to the ground. He hoped off his broom and turned to face the other boy. " _Fine,_ okay? I didn't expect a cowardly, slimy snake like you to commit anyway!" Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, but Harry didn't give him a chance. Harry turned and almost raced off the field.


	7. Chapter 7

After changing and putting away his Quidditch things, Harry sat and rested...

And willed himself to remember what he'd last eaten, because it had to have been rotten for him to be thinking about Malfoy like that.

Yes, the Slytherin was attractive. Just...not to him.

Harry bit his lip and groaned. Never mind looks, Malfoy's attitude was horrible. The silver-eyed boy had come up with the bet. Harry should have known he wasn't good for it.

Harry brushed his robes off once more and left the field, going to the Great Hall for dinner. When he arrived Harry noticed a certain prat not sitting at the Slytherin table.

Of course, thought Harry.

Harry turned and walked over to his table and sat down in his spot in front of Hermione and Ron.

"So did you get him? Will he confess?" Ron asked immediately. Harry grimaced and shook his head. "Malfoy didn't fall for it."

Ron frowned and sat back, pouting a little. Harry sighed, and looked down. He knew Ron wished for Malfoy to be embarrassed as often as possible. 10 minutes later Ron got his wish.

Harry had been crunching up a few chips in annoyance when Draco Malfoy himself sauntered in. He stopped in front of the room, where everyone could see him, fixed Harry with a glare, and spoke.

"Attention all. I'd just like to tell you how wonderful Gryffindors are. It's certainly the best House out of them all," Malfoy's voice held sarcasm, but everyone was still stunned. "Also, Potter, I'd like a rematch."

Then the Slytherin prince spun around and left the now-silent Great Hall.

Harry hadn't even tried explaining the situation to the people who asked. Even if he had settled their minds by telling them it was, "Only a Quidditch match" rumors and stories would take it way out of proportion.

Thursday was soon upon him and he always loved Thursday mornings, because of his free period. Today's free period was especially appreciated because he could avoid everyone who kept singing, "Draco and Harry, sitting in a tree..." It was annoying and immature.

In a random room in a random lower hall Harry sat, reading an interesting book about Chimeras. A low flapping noise interrupted his reading. Harry stood up and listened closely. The sound of wings grew louder until a large, majestic eagle owl appeared in the doorway. The owl cawed, dropped a message into his hands, and then left.

Harry looked at the envelope in surprise. He opened it up. There were only three words. 'Quidditch field. Three pm.'

There was nothing else. No name or initial, but Harry knew who had sent the message.

A few hours or so later Harry sat next to Ron and Hermione in Charms. "I got a letter today." He told his best mate. "From who?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged and flipped open his Charms book.

"I'm not sure. There was no name, and I didn't recognize the owl, but I think Malfoy sent it." Harry told him.

Across the table Hermione leaned forward and shook her head. "Harry, that's dangerous! What if it was You-Know-Who?!" Hermione warned. Ron barked a laugh. "Oh yeah, that's his brilliant plan. Take him and his Death Eaters and have a match. Maybe Snape'll be Keeper!" Ron replied, continuing to laugh.

Harry tuned them out. He was almost positive it was Malfoy. Who else would it be?

It was odd, though. Considering he hated him so much Malfoy was certainly making them spend a lot of time together.

Before he knew it, Charms was over. It was 2:30 and Harry turned to Ron. "Alright, I'm going." "Me too. Let's go kick his arse!" Harry chuckled as they made their way to the Quidditch field.

His best mate left him to go into the stands- he was the only one there. Now that he thought about it, Harry wasn't sure if being out on the field was forbidden or not. But it was out in the open for anyone to see, surely a Professor would have seen then by now and scolded them? Harry shrugged and went into the changing room. He put on his Quidditch robes and grabbed his Firebolt. When he went outside he made his way over to Malfoy and grinned. He'd guessed right.

"So, what will the bet be this time?" Harry asked with a smirk. "This isn't for a prize, Potter," Malfoy hissed, shaking his head. "This is for pride itself."

Harry laughed and swung onto his broom. "You've already lost that, Malfoy."

The Slytherin grimaced and flew up. "I already released the Snitch. Let's go."

The light was a tad darker than last time, but Harry could still easily see. He stayed in one spot, scanning the field.

Nothing. There was nothing to see for a long time. Harry didn't even seen glimpses.

Somehow in the midst of this Harry found his gaze wondering over to Malfoy. He looked much better like this; determined and vigilant. His perfect gaze sweeping over the landscape. Malfoy was well balanced on his broom, both relaxed and tense at the same time. If Harry shot off in a bluff at seeing the Snitch he knew the Slytherin would be right on his tail.

Suddenly Malfoy jerked his broom fluidly up and shot forward toward the goal post. Harry didn't hesitate to follow after him.

His Firebolt helped him gain on Malfoy. They were neck and neck. Malfoy reached out, Harry watched the Snitch...Malfoy was close to it. Closer than Harry. Malfoy's fingers wrapped around it...

and Harry slammed into the goal post.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely amounts of kudos and comments and HUFF I LOVE IT TOO.  
> Seriously do you ever just reread the stuff you write and start smiling like a dork? *cough cough* me everyday *cough cough*  
> OMIGOD  
> HARRY  
> WHAT  
> But you guys will get another Chapter so no worries >:3


	8. Chapter 8

Normally in cartoons when a character hits his head he sees stars. Harry, however, saw the blurred form of sky seem to fall from under him as he raced to the ground. Pain. Overwhelming pain, like a headache times 50. Harry couldn't think.

His decent was fast, but it somehow felt slow. Harry couldn't really think about anything or anyone.

Then strong arms wrapped around him, and the world seemed to spin slower. Suddenly he was on the ground, soft grass below him, a pale face above.

It took Harry a second to realize it was Malfoy. The Slytherin muttered a spell and a translucent blue film went over Harry. His head felt better. It helped him focus on the noises.

"Harry! Harry? Merlin, Potter, stay with me!" Malfoy yelled. "Blimey, Ron, go get help!"

Things were getting darker, more blurry, fading out. Harry felt himself being lifted, felt bumps as if he was being taken somewhere.

There was one last thing Harry heard before he lost consciousness. Through the wind, sounding as if from far away, someone said softly, "Hold on."

Harry woke up in a foreign bed with a splitting headache. Also, sitting up as fast as possible had not helped how he was feeling.

Of course the bed should not have felt foreign since Harry had been in Madame Pomfreys' too many times to count.

Slowly lying back down, Harry put on his glasses. He glanced around the room and groaned. Blurry thoughts about his fall scratched their way through his migraine and Harry grimaced.

He had hit a bloody  _goalpost_!

_Real nice, Harry. That will show everyone just how great of a Seeker you are._

Harry suddenly realized how dry his throat felt. He looked around for water when a hand thick with age held out a glass for him.

Harry looked up at Madame Pomfrey and took the water from her. "H-How long have I been out?" Harry asked, taking another drink.

"You have been in a coma, Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey informs him. "For two days. It's Sunday now."

Harry took another sip, taking this in. Brilliant. Just bloody brilliant. He could see the heading on the Daily Prophet now, "Potter loses to Malfoy, loses his focus and catches a goalpost instead!"

"What, uh, what happened?" His memory was foggy. He remembered the pain, definitely remembered that. And falling...a face. Though it didn't have freckles on it. Who was out there besides Ron?

"From what your friend Weasley says, you hit the highest goal post on the Quidditch field. It caused a large gash and almost dented your head! If young Mr. Malfoy hadn't had enough knowledge in medical magic to help the wound, well, you might have died. Madame Pomfrey shook her head. "How many times must I tell you to be  _careful_!"

Harry nodded, looking down at the blanket covering his lower half. Malfoy? He had saved him? "Malfoy?" Harry asked, sure he had heard wrong. "Oh, yes. He carried you in here from the field after you fell."

Harry thought back. So those soft but strong arms he had fallen into had been Malfoy's. Those startling grey eyes looking worriedly at him had been Malfoy's. When did Malfoy decide his life was worth living?

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by Hermione and Ron bursting in. "Oh, Harry, thank god you are okay!" Hermione practically yelled from across the room, her motherly instincts kicking in.

Arriving at his bed, Ron gave Harry a playful punch. "I wasn't worried, mate. I'd bet a thousand Galleons that you'd survive anything." He was reassuring, but Harry heard the relief hidden in his tone.

"Good to see you guys too. I reckon I've missed a lot." Ron nodded vigorously. "You should'a seen the girls, whining over how their savior was dying." Hermione put her hands on Harry's forehead. "Oh, you're warm, do you have a fever? Are you  _sure_ you are okay?" Hermione asked again.

"Please refrain from touching my patient, Ms. Granger. Mr. Potter is fine and will be released this afternoon. Now if you two would kindly leave, he needs his rest!" Madame Pomfrey ordered.

The afternoon ca,e quickly, what with sleep being the only thing to do, and soon enough Ron and Hermione were back. "C'mon, Harry, you're free from the hag!" Ron claimed.

Madame Pomfrey gave the redhead a dark look as Harry was hassled out of the door.

When Harry entered the common room a load of Gryffindors were there, most of then 7th or 6th years. They all patted him on the back and gave him congratulations on surviving.

When everyone calmed down, Fred and George asked the begging question. "Did the Ferret really save you?"

Harry fave a shrug. "I don't know, I barely remember anything."

Ron took a step forward and puffed out his chest. "Well," He announced. "I saw the whole thing!"

"Tell us!" Several students demanded.

"So, it goes like this: Harry and Malfoy are neck and neck on their pursuit for their Snitch. Harry gets ahead, then Malfoy, then Harry until finally Malfoy gains and grabs the Snitch," Ron's eyes were wide and everyone was interested. Harry felt Ron was making this way more dramatic then it was.

"Then BOOM! Just as Malfoy steals the Snitch Harry hits the goalpost! Malfoy looks over, probably to gloat, and then just  _throws away_ the Snitch and zooms over and catches Harry."

Ron paused again, letting it sink in. Hearing the story Harry was even more surprised.

This was Draco  _bloody_ Malfoy! He was a selfish prick who lived to brag and insult with wit. And he just threw away the Snitch? Also, what happened to that bitter rivalry? When did Malfoy do anything to help anyone?

"After that he put some medical spell on Harry and then picked him up and carried him to Madame Pomfrey's. He even called me  _Ron_."

"Not Weasley?" Fred asked, as if Malfoy had defiled his brother.

"Blimey, I didn't even think Malfoy knew our names." George stated.

Everyone was quiet before Seamus bursts out, "I'd have thought Malfoy would leave Harry to die."

The common room was quiet, all the present Gryffindors thoughtful. Malfoy was right, he had a reputation with everyone. He was the Slytherin prince- the worst of them all. His father was rumored to be a Death Eater...and yet he had saved someone's life.

 _His_ life. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

As Harry left the common room, the conversation over, and trudged to his dorm he wondered how he could make it up to the blond.

He could be stubborn and say it was Malfoy's fault he had been out on that field in the first place, but Harry was too grateful for what the Slytherin had done.

Harry slid into his bed and covered himself with blankets.

For now Harry would settle for thanking him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day, MERRY CHRISTMAS.  
> Yes I am a day or two late, oh well.  
> I must go massage my fingers.  
> Enjoy :D


	9. Chapter 9

The morning came quickly and Harry woke up right on time. Neither Ron nor Neville were awake so he took the first shower.

Emerging from the bath Harry quickly dried off and changed. Looking in the mirror, he brushed his hair. Even wet it was still as unruly as ever.

Ron woke up soon after Harry's shower and got dressed. The two went down to the common room where they met up with Hermione.

"Harry- Harry, did you sleep well? You don't have a fever, do you? If  _anything_ feels wrong-" "Geesh, Hermione, if you keep bloody pestering him he'll pass out!" Ron interrupted.

Hermione flushed and stopped talking, but still gave Harry a worried look. "I'm  _fine,_ Hermione!" Harry reassured her with a smile.

They left for the Great Hall soon after, Hermione smothering him all the way. Harry had tripped once and she had wanted to send him back to Madame Pomfrey's!

As Harry entered the Hall he spotted a certain Slytherin right away.

"Guys," he started as he turned their way. "I need to, erm, do something."

Hermione moved her gaze to Malfoy and smiled at Harry. I'm proud of you, Harry. Go thank him!"

Harry blushed and nodded. He slowly walked over to the Slytherin table. Malfoy looked up from his food when Harry stopped in front of him. Harry wasn't sure what he expected. He didn't expect Malfoy to worry. He doubted the other boy would be happy to see him alive and well. He did think maybe a little something besides hatred would be on the boy's face.

Malfoy only smirked.

"Got some new glasses, did you, Potter? Maybe now you can actually see where you're going!" Several snickers arose from the now-quiet table. Harry ignored the jab.

"Look, Malfoy, I just came to thank you." "For what? Saving you? I want you to grovel in forgiveness. I had to let go of the Snitch to save your arse!" Harry glared at Malfoy and resisted the urge to say something back. "I know," Harry continued through gritted teeth. "Thank you for saving me."

Just once. Could Malfoy get over himself  _just once_ and accept his thanks? Then Harry didn't have to feel like he owed the other boy.

"Well I couldn't let you die when I'd just earned bragging rights. How does it feel, Potter? How does it feel to lose?" Of course Malfoy couldn't.

"You didn't save me to gloat and we both know it." Harry replied sharply, his patience wearing thin. Malfoy's grin evaporated and his silver gaze darkened. "Do not presume to know me, Potter." He retorted after a beat, a threat in his tone.

Harry starred at the other boy for a short time. Why did Malfoy have to be so damn confusing? He had saved his life, worried over him, carried him to safety. Yet he couldn't even say 'You're welcome'.

"You're right. You're the same arrogant prick we've all grown to hate! I can't even sat thank you without being insulted!" Harry barked in a bitter tone. Harry couldn't take it. He turned on heel and left the Great Hall.

He had lost his appetite anyways.

* * *

 

Harry wished he could be like others. Wished he could snap back with an equally witty insult or discourage people he didn't like. But no, Harry was a grateful boy and tried to be considerate. He supposed that was because he had grown up in such an unfortunate place like the Dursely's home.

Harry stormed down the hall, ready to disappear into the library and calm down. "Potter!" Suddenly a pale hand reached out and grabbed his shoulder and he was spun around.

Green eyes met gray.

Draco Malfoy had come after him again.

"Do you enjoy ruining my reputation?" Malfoy snapped at him. "What?" Harry replied, livid. Malfoy had just been a complete prat and now it was Harry's fault? "Potter, people already think something is going on due to the love potion fiasco, and now that I've saved your life? I had to use the excuse that I couldn't have a murder on my hands. Then you come up and thank me? You're not helping the situation."

Harry felt a bit of his anger melt away as Malfoy's tone softened. He paused and looked down thoughtfully. It had been an excuse. "So why did you save me." Harry asked taking a step back.

Malfoy glanced at him before focusing on something in the distance, as if contemplating answering Harry or not. Finally the other boy sighed. "Look. I don't like you. You and your Gryffindor buddies are beyond irritating. But I don't want you dead. I like annoying you, Potter, but I'm not going to let you die."

Malfoy seemed done with his explanation and started to walk away, back toward the Great Hall. "You called me Harry!" Harry called after him. Malfoy stopped and turned back a little towards Harry.

"Pardon?" He replied apathetically.

"You called me Harry," He repeated firmly. "Before I passed out...why?"

Harry thought perhaps the fair-haired boy would tell him. That maybe Malfoy would admit to... something. What, Harry didn't know. Yet he look at Malfoy's expression and knew he wouldn't be answering anymore questions.

"People do irrational things in extreme situations, Potter." Malfoy hissed before gliding away.

* * *

 

**Draco's PoV**

Boy was his father going to be pissed.

Thanks to Ginger Idiot 1 and his even more disruptive older brothers the whole school would know about his one and only 'heroic action'. It would reach his father, gossip always did.

Look at that. Draco Malfoy saving the Chosen One. The Dark Lord himself would probably strangle him. Unless... Voldemort always wanted Potter for himself. Draco could just tell his father that when he got the inevitable letter.

Draco laughed at a joke from Thomas Nott that he had only barely heard, when he noticed a certain horribly-dressed Gryffindor.

The Golden Boy himself stopped in front of him. Frighteningly combed hair and all. "Oh, did you get new glasses, Potter? Maybe now you can see where you're actually going!" Draco flashed his signature Malfoy smirk for special effects. Most of the Slytherins laughed.

What was Potter doing here anyways? To ask for a rematch?

"Look, Malfoy, I just came to thank you." Potter admitted.

Draco almost groaned aloud. Was Potter so stupid that he didn't get just how much Draco  _could not be around him_?! Damn love potion was causing more problems than a dragon in a Muggle zoo!"

"For what? Saving you? I want you to grovel in forgiveness. I had to let go of the Snitch to save your arse!" Draco put in as much regret into his tone as he could. He didn't want Daphne or some other girl to spread more rumors about him and Potter.

"I know," Potter continued, obviously furious. "Thank you for saving me."

Those words were  _delicious_! More savory than a juicy steak. Oh, Draco wanted to record them and play them over and over again. The Chosen One thanking  _him._

When had any day been more beautiful?

"Well I couldn't let you die when I had just earned bragging rights. How does it feel, Potter? How does it feel to finally lose?"

Draco felt smug. He had beaten Harry Potter fair and square. No casualties. Of course he had had to go back and find the Snitch afterward, but it had been worth it.

"You didn't save me to gloat and we both know it." Draco stopped smiling.

Potter definitely hated him. Why else would he be giving the whole of Slytherin House a reason to doubt him.

Draco glared at Potter and hissed, "Do not presume to know me, Potter." If the other boy continued to 'thank him' and act like Draco was on a sudden hero streak he wasn't sure what he would do.

"You're right," Potter retorted. "You're the same arrogant prick we've all grown to hate! I can't even say thank you without being insulted!" Potter turned and stormed out of the Great Hall.

Draco starred after him before he got up, muttered an excuse, and left the Great Hall.

There was the wondrous Chosen One throwing a temper tantrum  _again_!

Draco was not even sure why he was following the other boy.

"Potter!" He snapped, pulling Potter to face him. "Do you enjoy ruining my reputation?" The green-eyed boy starred at him blankly. "What?" Merlin's beard, Potter was clueless! How in the world had he survived Hogwarts a whole six years?

"Potter, people already think something is going on due to the love potion fiasco, and now that I've saved your life? I had to use the excuse that I couldn't have a murder on my hand. Then you come up and thank me? You're not helping the situation." Draco hated that he had to spell it out for Potter. He went through way too much trouble dealing with Potter.

Draco stepped back and watched the brunette. He was cute when he thought about things.

That was probably why Draco never thought of him as 'cute'. Bloody boy had no brain.

"So why did you save me?" Potter finally asked. Draco was a little surprised and looked away quickly, hiding it behind a face hopefully devoid of emotion.

It wouldn't be too big of a deal to tell the truth if it got Potter off his back.

"Look. I don't like you. You and your Gryffindor buddies are beyond irritating. But I don't want you dead. I like annoying you, Potter, but I'm not going to let you die. Sustain some serious injuries, maybe, but not die."

That was as good an answer as any. Draco was uncomfortable with this situation anyways. He turned to leave when Potter called, "You called me Harry!"

Draco stopped and bit out, "Pardon?" Draco knew exactly what Potter was talking about. A moment of weakness, he had told himself. Just something he had shouted in the midst of panic.

Draco would not allow Potter to think he had any respect for the Boy Who Lived.

"You called me Harry," Potter repeated. "Before I passed out...Why?"

Draco looked at the green-eyed boy for a short time. The question was why did Potter care?

"People do irrational things in extreme situations, Potter." He decided to say, before turning and going back to the Great Hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you all for your lovely comments. Here is a very long chapter, sorry I got it to you so late.  
> I'm looking for a beta, so if any of you are interested, tell me. Enjoy!


	10. Chapter 10

Draco got several stares as he reentered the Great Hall. Draco was aware of the whispers about him and Potter.

Sure, Potter was attractive enough but... _never_ going to happen.

Draco sat down at his place at Slytherin table and had several people looking at him. Blaise was leaning in close, inspecting his neck.

"Blimey, what're you looking for, a hickey?" Draco snapped, knowing full well they were. "I only went to the loo."

Blaise leaned back and regarded Draco suspiciously. He was annoyed by this. Blaise, his best friend, the person he had grown up with and known for 15 years, was suspicious of his relationship with Potter.

Fine, Draco could admit he didn't hate Potter as much as before, but _come on_!

Blaise should know that considering the amount of time he spent on his hair that he could never shag someone with such an unruly mass on his head.

Draco sighed and finished eating. He stood up with his Housemates. There were a few Slytherins who were in Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid was considered a disgusting mutant with a potential for violence. He was half-giant afterall. Many of the richer, more influential pureblood families had sent plenty of complaints.

Draco disagreed.

Sure, Hagrid was annoying-just like every other Potter-worshipper-and kind of daft but you took one look at him and just knew he would not hurt a fly.

Could he?

Hell yeah, but the man spent his day caring over Glowworms and butterflies.

Besides, Draco had an interest in animals.

Except Hippogriffs.

He fucking hated Hippogriffs.

Draco made his way to where the class was held and sat down, looking at Potter. Potter was usually early for Care of Magical Creatures. Draco opened his book to the assigned page. They were learning about Plimplys today.

As Draco read up on the fish-like creature he felt eyes on him. Not just someone glancing at him, but starring. After several minutes of feeling the prickling of another gaze Draco was fed up with it. "If you stare any longer, you'll burn holes through those new glasses, Potter."

Said Gryffindor flushed a lovely red and looked away.

Draco smirked and turned back to his book. Odd little balls, Plimplys. Webbed feet like a duck but a body like a Pufferfish. However, he was only spared a minute or two of silence to read.

Taking his time, Potter leaned forward and opened his mouth. "Thank you." He whispered, almost like he was nervous. Draco rolled his eyes but did not look up from his book. "For what?" He replied in a sing-song voice.

"Saving my life." "Oh that," Draco smirked. It was amusing, and a little bit adorable, how secretive Potter was being about this. "You're welcome."

Potter did not reply, so Draco turned to look at him. "You know, I had to spend about an hour on the field in order to recatch the Snitch."

"Doesn't count." Potter shot back immediately.

"What doesn't?"

"It doesn't count as you winning the match. I was incapacitated, it wasn't fair win." Draco leaned back and gave a disbelieving laugh. That match had been completely fair! But if Potter didn't see it that way Draco would make him.

"Oh really? You still have doubts about me being the best at everything? Well I'll beat you fair and square next time." Draco informed the Gryffindor.

Potter looked up at him, his eyes a little wide. "Next time?" He asked, and Draco could not tell whether or not he liked the idea.

A moment later class ended. Draco stood up and packed away his book, parchment and quill. "Yes, next time." Draco repeated. He walked away and didn't check for an answer.

As Draco left he cursed himself. Why-oh-why did he keep putting himself in these situations? As the two had spent more time together Draco had realized that Potter was not as annoying as he thought. However, Draco had not gotten a note from his father yet, and with one more incident Draco knew he would.

Yet he still called for his owl, Zuiver.

Zuiver was a very prestigious, purebred and well-trained eagle owl that Draco had been gifted with third year. He simply had to whistle a certain tune and then Zuiver would come.

Draco held out the note he'd written for Potter and Zuiver plucked it from his hand with his beak.

The eagle owl flew away and Draco started forward toward the dungeons.

These conversations with Potter were getting more and more odd. There were a lot less insults. In Care of Magical Creatures they had practically been flirting.

Draco did not know whether he liked it or not.

* * *

**Harry's PoV**

Harry sat in his chair as he watched Malfoy leave, a little smile on his face. He was starting to like these Quidditch matches.

""'Ello, 'Arry!" Came a gruff voice. Harry jumped and blushed, like he was caught doing something wrong.

Harry looked up at the large teacher in front of him and smiled. "Hi, Hagrid!"

Hagrid sat down in a chair, the object squeaking under his weight. "How're you likin' school so far?" He asked. "It's alright. Besides the potion situation I've been okay." Harry replied.

Hagrid gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry you have'ta partner with Malfoy, 'Arry, but Professor McGonagall insisted."

Harry nodded and stood up, his things in his arms. "It's alright, Hagrid...Malfoy isn't too bad." Harry said goodbye to Hagrid and left.

Harry was free for the rest of the day. He knew Ron also had a free period, so he walked around the school and looked for his best mate.

He found Ron sitting on a bench stationed in front of the lake. It was odd that a random stone block and been put on the sandy ground that sat just before the tide, but Harry was sure there were a few others around the area. "Hello." He whispered, eyes on the soft pull of waves. Ron jumped a little, obviously startled, and looked over at him. "Oh, 'lo Harry." The redhead mumbled, scooting to the right to that Harry could sit down.

Sitting down Harry turned and smiled at Ron. "What's up?" "Nothing much. Been skipping rocks. Surprisingly it's boring being alone and without homework." Ron huffed out a small chuckle at his joke, his head craned back to watch the clouds. Harry nodded and looked up as well. They sat in silence, each quietly creating pictures out of the fluffy balls of perspiration. "Hey, whatever happened at breakfast? Did Malfoy really come after you?" Ron eventually asked, moving his attention from the sky to Harry.

Harry moved his gaze to his knees, fiddling with the hem of his robe. "Yeah." "Why?" "Well, he didn't like that I apologized to him. In front of his friends, at least. I am apparently 'ruining his reputation' or something."

Ron rolled his head, as Harry expected him to, and shook his head.

"Malfoy pisses me off," "Like that isn't common knowledge." "Bugger off, Harry. I mean, he really only has the Slytherins on his side. Ravenclaws might like him well enough, he's smart I guess. But the Hufflepuffs are just scared of him, and all the Gryffindors hate him. So why does he think he's popular?" Ron paused, looking to be deep in thought. "At least that's how us guys think. I don't get what all those girls see in him. He's so vain he can't even take an apology. Malfoy would probably ask himself to dance if he could!" Ron let out a snort at his joke, but Harry looked up for a different reason.

"Girls?"

"Oh yeah," Ron continued without a second thought. "Always talking about him, giggling when he walks by. Ridiculous. Thank Merlin Hermione has some sense and isn't following after Malfoy."

Harry nodded and chuckled, his mind elsewhere.

Did Malfoy really get that much of a following with girls? Harry was too busy dealing with his own fans he had never checked if anyone else had some. He could only really remember Malfoy hanging out with Daphne and Pansy. Did he have lots of girlfriends? Malfoy looked well enough for sure but Harry had never noticed Malfoy around any girls in a romantic way. Besides the 4th year ball Harry had never seen Malfoy on any dates. Malfoy probably didn't do dates anyways. He probably just hooked up with random girls at the various Hogsmeade parties and common room activities.

Harry wouldn't know about that. He had only ever been with Cho Chang, one small, short and frankly horrible kiss under his belt. Malfoy's kisses were probably long and heated and passionate- the kisses that literally left one breathless.

Suddenly Ron snapped his fingers and the sound jolted Harry from his thoughts.

"Huh, what?" Harry sputtered, trying not to blush as he realized what he'd been thinking about.

"You've become a lot more distracted lately, Harry. I was talking about how Quidditch is starting up in a few weeks. I plan to try out for Keeper. Anyways, I promised to meet Hermione at the library. We have to study for our Defense Against the Dark Arts project." Ron explained, standing up from the stone bench and brushing off his robes.

Harry nodded and gave him a guilty smile. "Sorry, I drifted off. The presentation is due in two days, yeah? Malfoy and I already finished the parchment." Ron gave him a nod and waved, slowly making his way to the library, obviously dreading it.

Harry streched out on the bench, lying on it and cushioning his head with his arms. He gazed up at the sky once again. The sun was slowly sinking further West, and dimming, so it didn't glint off of Harry's glasses and blind him.

He wasn't sure when he drifted off, but the lull from the light waves in the lake and the sounds of various birds made him sleepy. He was woken, however, by the loud caw of an owl.

When Harry opened his eyes he recognized the big eagle owl that he associated with Malfoy. The owl looked angry, as of he had been stationed on the bench for a very long time. Maybe it had been.

Harry blushed and grabbed the note from the owl's leg.

Harry opened up the envelope, a little hesitant, yet excited. It was definitely from Malfoy, which meant it was probably about Quidditch. The last match had been painful but fun, as Quidditch always was.

 _"Tomorrow after dinner, 8:00. Also, give Zuiver a treat. -M"_ The letter said in fancy but readable script. Harry was surprised that Malfoy had signed it, sort of, rather than leave himself a mystery.

The owl cooed again, ruffling its feathers in a restless gesture. Harry sat up a little and dug into his pocket. He always kept a couple treats there for Hedwig. Harry handed one to the eagle owl, Zuiver, who took it immediately.

Suddenly Zuiver reached forward and plucked the note from Harry's hand with his beak. Then without warning, the owl flew off toward to Owlery.

No doubt Zuiver was incredibly well trained. It was Malfoy's owl after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is much longer considering I haven't posted a chapter in about 3 months!! I am writing more and should type up another chapter in the next few days!!
> 
> Thank the lot of you who commented and left kudos you are the best! <3


	11. Chapter 11

Harry sat up on the bench, cracking his neck and stretching his limbs. It was probably dinner by now, considering how much darker it was. Harry wasn't hungry, and he was too busy thinking about tomorrow. He wondered if Malfoy would make a bet again. Harry found himself remembering the first time they had flown, and and how good Malfoy had looked.

It was ridiculous. Harry wasn't...attracted to men, was he? He had spent so much time focused on Cho Chang. And then Ginny...She had dropped several hints and she was pretty. Harry rather liked her too. Of course he didn't flush when he thought of her in  _that_  way. He didn't think about her too much when she wasn't around. He did so that with Malfoy, though. Which was stupid because Malfoy was the biggest git in the world, even if he was very attractive with his striking blond hair and stormy gray eyes.

Harry blushed and squirmed whilst on the bench. Now that he thought about it, there were several boys he had looked at in more than a friendly way. Oliver Wood and Cedric Diggory off the top of his head. Dean Thomas for a short time. What did that mean? If he noticed the boys in the Quidditch locker room and envisioned kissing boys, did that make him gay? Bisexual if he had dated Cho? Harry didn't have anything against potentially being a homosexual, but it was new. Harry had never thought he would be. Harry bit his lip and stood up.

He would have to talk to Ron about this. Wasn't his brother Charlie gay too? Harry wouldn't know how to bring up such a conversation.

Hermione would be a much better person to go to.

Harry put his hands in his robe pockets and made his way back to Hogwarts. Malfoy didn't leave his thoughts once, even as he came into his common room and climbed into bed.

Potions came after breakfast but Harry had no time to talk to Malfoy. Snape had then working on the Draught of Living Death, but without partners. The blond was working at the table next to him, his face a mask of concentration.

Harry starred at his Potions book, groaning again. He had followed the instructions and tried to be more patient, as Malfoy had told him last time, but it was a dark sickly brown rather than the pale bronze it was supposed to be. Harry hadn't even finished half of the potion and it was already messed up.

"Oi, Potter!" Malfoy hissed, suddenly in front of him. "Got any extra Billywigs?" Harry got over his surprise and looked over his supplies. "Yeah…" "Good. Put three in your potion and it should be fixed." Malfoy muttered. He grabbed two basil leaves and then moved back to his own table.

With a smile Harry added the Billywigs, watching as the potion sizzled into a lighter brown.

Lunch was rather quiet and Harry actually simply ate this time. Hermione was once again scolding Ron for his excessive eating habits and he glanced at her with a stuffed mouth. Hermione had in fact asked him if he had gotten another request for Quidditch. Harry had lied and told her no. Not only would she had pestered him about the dangers (he had only just recovered from the last match) of Quidditch, but she would probably want to come along.

As he walked to Transfiguration Harry cursed himself. Why did he have to suddenly want to be around Malfoy. The blond wasn't nice, he insulted his friends, looks shouldn't overcome that.

Maybe it was because of the times when Malfoy wasn't with his other Slytherin friends. Malfoy acted okay then. He was even fun sometimes.

When Harry saw Malfoy sitting in Transfiguration he scowled at him, eliciting an eyebrow raise from the boy, who seemed confused from Harry's sudden anger.

Harry could feel Malfoy's eyes on him as he sat in his seat, annoyed. He starred at McGonagall and ignored his blond counterpart. This, this… _crush_  was ridiculous and Harry needed to get over it.

Today was, thankfully, just a lecture day, which meant Harry didn't need to interact with Malfoy. Maybe…maybe the Slytherin had given him a love potion as revenge, but the potion worked at a slower pace. Maybe Malfoy was trying to seduce him. Maybe the blond wore cologne that made people want to be around him. There was no way anyone smelled that good. Point was, Malfoy shouldn't be someone Harry liked. Malfoy was prejudice and horrid and he had tried to get Hagrid of all people fired! He cheated and lied; a true Slytherin. It wasn't right to like Malfoy.

Confused and angry, Harry grabbed his books and left Transfiguration as soon as the bell dismissed them. Then he headed for Herbology.

"Ron, Charlie is gay, right?" Harry blurted out as he slammed his book down on their shared table. Ron looked up from the plant he was inspecting in surprise.

"He…what?" His friend said, confused.

Harry blushed and sat down slowly. "Sorry, um…Charlie, is- is Charlie gay?" He repeated, unsure if that was a rude thing to ask or not. Ron gave him an odd look before putting his finger on his chin. "Yeah. I think he is. I don't know, it has never really coe up. He's more into dragons than anything, much less relationships."

"And you don't…" Harry hesitated. "You don't have a problem with that?" Ron gave him another weird look. "No, why would I? Now, Harry, what is this about, are you okay?"

Harry beamed and nodded at his best friend. "Yeah, I'm great."

* * *

Harry sat next to Hermione during dinner. Tonight he would be playing Quidditch with Malfoy, but he still needed to talk to her.

Hermione, are you free tomorrow before lunch?" He asked quietly, shuffling a bit of broccoli around his plate. She looked over at him and shook her head in a concerned manner. "Yes. Why, what's wrong?" "Nothing too bad," Harry assured her. "I promise. It is kind of private, though." He finished, a little nervous. Knowing Hermione, she might want to include Ron. Harry wasn't ready for that, even if the redhead seemed to have no problem with homosexuality.

The frizzy-haired girl gave him a worried look but a comforting smile. "Of course. I'm always here, Harry. You know that, right?"

"I know." Harry beamed again.

Light was already starting to dim as Harry made his way to the Pitch. Harry had put a few spells on his glasses since he had gotten to Hogwarts a few weeks ago. One would help him see in the dark better, and the other would allow for his lenses to be clear even when it was raining or dusty. Even so, he couldn't spot the Snitch during the night.

There was no need for a  _Lumos_ or anything yet, but the sun was setting. It left a rosy glow over the field and illuminated the blond waiting for him on the grass outside the wooden structure.

Malfoy had been lying on the sod, playing with a leaf, when Harry came out of the Quidditch changing rooms. He sat up quickly as Harry emerged, and Harry caught a flicker of something, relief maybe, before Malfoy straightened up and brushed off the grass on his robes.

The blond gave Harry a calculated look, and Harry felt the same thing that he had sensed when the two were outside the Great Hall; it felt like Malfoy was sharing something that he never did.

"I thought you weren't coming," Malfoy muttered, looking almost…vulnerable. "I thought…I thought you were mad at me, or something." Unless Harry was mistaken, Malfoy seemed upset. Even more shocking, he seemed upset about the possibility or Harry not showing up. Despite their constant bickering and meetings Harry knew little about Malfoy's true feelings or expressions. He was unsure, but intrigued.

Harry gave Malfoy a small smile and countered with, "I'm always mad at you." Malfoy hesitated, but then his lips twitched, and he seemed to catch Harry's jest. The Slytherin returned the small smile.

"Ready to choke on defeat, Malfoy?" Harry said, grabbing his broom and changing the subject.

Malfoy responded immediately, not missing a beat. "That's a lot of confidence for someone always falling off of his broom. How many times have you broken your nose again?"

Had anyone been listening to them, they would probably think that the two were fighting. They would think that an unfriendly competition was going on; something that was typical between Gryffindors and Slytherins. But this time, as the two swung onto their brooms and the blond lazily let out the Snitch, they weren't focused on their bitter rivalry. They weren't even focused on winning. This time the match was for fun rather than victory.

And maybe, just maybe, in this match, they were almost friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait lovelies. Enjoy! Another chapter after this ;3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in about 24 hours? Happy summer, I guess?

**Draco’s PoV:**

A half an hour passed and both Draco and Potter hadn’t even gotten close to catching the Snitch. They weren’t trying to neglect Quidditch; they were just fixated on other things.

Or in other words, each other.

Draco was secretly stealing glances at Potter and Potter was not-so-secretly stealing glances at him. Draco probably noticed at least half of the other boy’s looks. He was sneaky enough so Potter, hopefully, didn’t recognize that Draco was watching him too.

Today had been odd. Draco was expecting Potter to inform him that he would join him or Quidditch, giving Draco that same determined and heated look that always gave Draco an increased desire to win.

Instead he had been glared at, and worse, ignored. Draco had always, always hated it when Harry Potter ignored him. That was part of the reason why he always messed with him. However, Potter had stopped ignoring him years ago. Yet suddenly Potter was genuinely mad at him, and Draco had no idea why.

He had racked his brain, trying to figure out what he had done in the last few hours that could have pissed the Gryffindor off. But Draco had found nothing. In fact, as far as he could see, he had actually been nicer than usual. He couldn’t remember the last time he had used _that_ word on Granger or anyone else. Draco hadn’t even tripped any Hufflepuffs recently.

It was horrible. Potter wouldn’t speak to him, and Draco actually cared.

Throughout all of Transfiguration Potter ignored him. Draco couldn’t say a word unless he wanted to worsen his reputation with McGonagall. The professor was eyeing him specifically as she prattled on about tails. She would give him detention the moment he opened his mouth, he was sure.

Then Draco had suffered through the rest of the day; curious, worried and confused. And that was stupid because it was Potter and Draco had been trying to get rid of him and his stupid questions for weeks now. The concerned thoughts he was having about the Chosen One only increased his confusion and annoyance.

Still, he had made his way down to the Quidditch Pitch, worried and anxious. He had lain in the grass for ten minutes, wishing with all his heart that Potter would come. Draco had hoped that some part of him didn’t want to be near the brunette, but he could at least be honest with himself. When Potter had finally come out of the changing rooms, dressed and ready to play, Draco had been relieved and happy to see him.

Potter had easily lightened the mood and so they had started their third one-on-one match.

Thirty minutes in and Draco still couldn’t take his eyes off Potter, and not in a watchful way at all. Maybe it was the way the sun was setting or the change of atmosphere or the lack of angry tension that flittered between them, but Potter looked better than Draco remembered.

It wasn’t as if it was a new thing for him; being attracted to boys. In fact he was pretty sure he only found boys attractive. Various flings with Pansy and some other Slytherin girls had clued him in. Marcus Flint and a couple Muggle boys over the summer confirmed it. But Draco still had to get married and produce a pureblood heir, so he couldn’t exactly come out.

Draco had never appreciated Potter before. Maybe at some point he had registered that Potter had a nice arse, but now he couldn’t stop starring.

Potter with a broom between his legs was sexy. His hair no longer seemed to be an unkempt mess. It more looked like he had styled it into a ruffled, rebellious, just-had-sex look. And he was fit. Very fit, from what the Gryffindor’s tight clothes were saying. One had to be pretty fit to play Quidditch, and Draco could easily see the muscles in Potter’s arms, chest and legs; covered, unfortunately. It was as if Potter was teasing him, showing off a bit of skin with his rolled up sleeves, but not showing near enough.

But his eyes.

Whenever their gazes locked while in the air Draco was startled by how bright and beautiful they were. He was starting to think that he had been slipped another love potion.

Except Potter was looking at him too, and in a rather lustful way from what Draco could see.

They would fly lazily around the Pitch, watching one another, completely ignoring the Snitch. Draco had no idea where the speedy gold ball was.

Rather than a flash of gold, Draco noticed a speck of emerald green in his peripheral. He looked away from Potter and noticed the group of newly-arriving students. Below him, walking toward the center of the Pitch, was Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle.

Quickly Draco turned to look across the field, reaching a speed that he would have been at had he been searching for the Snitch the past forty minutes. He saw Potter drawing close to him, so he sped up even more and rammed into the brunette.

It wasn’t amusing to see Potter lose his balance on his broom and spin away from him. Not near as amusing as it might have been a couple weeks ago. Draco hadn’t wanted to harm Potter, and he tried to ignore the whoosh of relief he felt when Potter straightened up. Instead of comforting the Gryffindor, he forced out a laugh. “Hang on tight, Potter, that’s the only thing you’re good for!”

A vision of Potter holding his robes tightly as Draco fucked him made Draco regret his statement even more. He didn’t need to get horny when the Slytherins were near.

Draco flew away from the other boy and noticed Blaise waving him down.

He floated toward the ground, hiding his annoyance with a lazy smirk. “I see you’re flirting with Potter again.” Blaise called out the moment Draco was in range. He rolled his eyes, clenching his fists in an inconspicuous manner. He turned his broom awkwardly in the moment and landed messier than necessary.

“On the contrary, Potter seems to believe our last match wasn’t ‘fair’.” Draco swung off of his Nimbus Two Thousand and One, stretching as he stood in front of his friends.

“When does a Slytherin care about fair?” Blaise countered.

Draco closed his eyes and turned away; stupid suspicious and horribly correct Blaise.

“Dray, are you coming to the party?” Pansy asked out of the blue. Draco was then reminded of the others, and how he was stuck with the most annoying girls in his House. Daphne was a close second.

“Party?” He asked, hoping it wasn’t another pureblood ball where he would to politely tolerate boring, rich people who wanted to hook him up with their daughter, or worse, daughters. “The one Professor Lupin is throwing in the Great Hall.” Pansy told him. Draco suddenly remembered the announcement. There wasn’t any real reason for the celebration, Hogwarts and its staff just wanted to do something fun for the older students, apparently. “Probably.” Draco replied after a minute. He needed to be considered a good student by every teacher in order to excel, and McGonagall and Lupin were the last two on his list.

Suddenly Potter flew in front of him, whipping his hair around. Draco sputtered and patted his hair back down. Potter smirked, “Are we doing this, Malfoy, or can I assume that you forfeit?”

“Never, Potter!” Draco snarled. He walked over to his broom and gripped it tight, glaring at Potter as he flew around tauntingly above him. “Later Blaise.” He muttered, not even bothering to look at the black-skinned boy as he swung onto his broom and flew after Potter.

Below him Blaise shook his head knowingly and followed his friends back to the Slytherin dorms.

* * *

 

Another twenty minutes passed before the Snitch was caught.

After a round of chasing each other around the field they had started hunting for the Snitch. It had ended up in Potter’s blind spot when Draco had grabbed it, giving a whoop of victory.

Draco was more humble about his win this time, and he wasn’t sure why. Just like he wasn’t sure why he was watching Potter out of the corner of his eye, or why he was laughing at the Gryffindor’s corny jokes.

They walked toward their house changing rooms, both resigned and tired. Draco peeled off his sweaty Quidditch robes and changed before putting away the Snitch in its designated box.

When he emerged Potter was waiting for him.

The brunette looked nervous. “You know, Malfoy…you were civil until your friends came over.” He muttered as he passed. Draco stopped walking and turned to look at Potter over his shoulder. This did not look good. “And?” He snapped. “Well…is it possible that…that it’s all an act?” Potter asked, hesitant, twirling a thread from his robes between his fingers. Draco grimaced and clenched his fists. Always Potter with his questions. He could never leave alone and let him have a stress-free time. “What, Potter? You mean my actions? You mean everything I was told to do since the day I could comprehend it? Stop trying to define everything I’m doing, I’m not a charity case!”

Draco finished and spun around, leaving with a dramatic huff, a cloud of dust floating up behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Thanks for all the lovely kudos and comments and bookmarks! You guys are the best <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Harry's PoV**

Harry trudged up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. He was still hot and sticky, seeing as he hadn't taken a shower in the changing rooms. His Firebolt shifted in his robe pocket as he swayed. It was shrunken, but at the time Harry hadn't been in the right mood for a spell. Now the broom was more the size or a thick pencil than the paperclip proportion it should be.

He leaned back against the wall in front of the Gryffindor portrait. Harry whipped his forehead despite the lack of sweat and sighed.

No one could even win with Malfoy, least of all Harry Potter. He wanted to help the blond, figure him out, and on top of that now he wanted to kiss Malfoy too. But Malfoy pushed him away at every turn. Not that Harry was trying particularly hard to get near his lips…

It was no help that Ron and Hermione, along with all the other Gryffindors, hated Malfoy's guts. That meant he was a little short on advice. There was also the issue of Harry possibly being a pouf which meant more questions no one had the answer to.

The only one who could help was Hermione… _maybe_.

Harry huffed and pushed off of the wall as the Fat Lady's disapproving gaze finally broke him. As he muttered the password- tender roots- the portrait muttered something about him 'loitering'.

When he entered the common room Lavender Brown and Romilda Vane made their way over to him, giggling and whispering.

"So, Harry, are you going to Lupin's party on Wednesday?" Romilda asked, fluttering her lashes in a way Harry had never found attractive.

 _Blimey_ , he thought,  _tell me she isn't going to ask me out._

Harry shuffled his feet and took a step back. He made sure not to trip over and furniture trying to put some space between the girls. "Yeah." Harry muttered. He remembered the conversation between Malfoy and his friends earlier. The Slytherin was going too. "Well, Harry, are you planning on going with anyone?" Romilda prompted, pulling a lock of hair behind her ear. Harry recalled that other found this whole get up cute.

Bollocks, Harry thought. No doubt Romilda was not-so-subtly telling him to ask her out. If Harry was planning to bring anyone they would be blond, not black-haired. Harry gave her a forced smile. "Er, ah, no." He muttered awkwardly. Then he realized that Romilda had straightened and was grinning widely now.  _Now you've told her that you're free_ , Harry assessed, cringing. He quickly cast a  _Tempus_ and looked away. "Wow, look at the time, I should go to bed. Beauty rest and all that!" Harry faked a laugh and pushed through the two girls. He bolted and practically sprinted to his dorm room. So much for Gryffindor bravery.

* * *

Harry starred across the room at Malfoy the majority of breakfast. Malfoy never once looked up, too busy actually eating, Harry guessed. Or Malfoy was still pissed at him. The small shuffle he was doing with his food didn't seem to be enough for his friends and they repeatedly tried to get him attention. Finally, fed up, Ron snapped, "What's happened with Malfoy  _now_?"

Harry looked over at him after hearing the Slytherin's name. Ron grimaced and shook his head as if he had predicted such. Harry stared at the redhead and then sheepishly replied, "We played Quidditch yesterday. He won." That was a mistake because Hermione reached forward and slapped his shoulder. "Harry! Why didn't you tell me about that match? I asked you if you were playing with him and you said no! Draco really is corrupting you." Hermione tsked and had another saltine chip.

Harry looked down, the guilt eating at him. "I know, I lied, I'm sorry, I just…I didn't want you guys to go to the stands and watch." "Well you could have just asked us not to! It's nothing but Malfoy, Malfoy,  _Malfoy_  with you! That's all you talk about!" Ron snarled. Harry leaned back, startled. He hadn't thought about the past few days in that way. "You're right, Ron. So, how are you two?"

Hermione blushed from the question and put her hands in her lap. "Well, at the library, I was reading- Gladin: A Story Of Unlimited Cheer- and Ron, well he-" "Hermione and I are going to Lupin's party," Ron finished. "Together. As dates." A tint of pink spread up his neck and Hermione's cheeks mirrored the color.

Harry grinned at the news. Hermione and Ron had been doing this little dance since 4th year, neither of them daring to make a move. Apparently Gryffindor courage didn't apply in every situation. The two had hung out at the Weasley home a lot during the summer before 6th year and Harry had noticed that they were much closer. It was good that they were together. It distanced them from Harry but that was bound to happen. They would be more interested in their relationship and, more importantly, snogging. Thank Merlin Ron finally asked her out.

* * *

 

"Finally!" Harry exclaimed with a laugh. "Took you two long enough!" His best friends blushed some more and Harry chuckled. "I hope you have better dress robes to wear this time, Ron."

When Harry entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom he immediately searched for Malfoy. Despite the bad terms the two had been on at the end of yesterday's match Malfoy still returned Harry's small smile.

"Well, Potter, I do hope you're ready." Malfoy said as he sat down. Harry blinked and starred at him, confused. "Ready."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and fixed Harry with an  _'are you kidding me'_  look. Harry blinked again, stunned by the beautiful gray orbs. "You really are daft. Dropped on your head as a baby, perhaps?" A moment passed and then Malfoy's eyes flickered to the scar on Harry's head. "Never mind," He mumbled as he turned away and reached into his bag. Harry recognized the parchment he pulled out and realized suddenly what today was. "Our presentation is due today!"

The blond nodded and laid out the parchment just as Remus came into the classroom.

Remus wasted no time in starting the presentations. Neville and Luna were the first pair to be called up. Luna started off by saying that the Blibbering Humdinger was much more interesting than a Manticore, before they explained the lion-like beast. Three other pairs went after them and then Harry and Malfoy were up.

Harry followed the Slytherin to the front of the room, standing beside him as the blond started their presentation. They had decided that Malfoy would cover what an Inferius was and its appearance and Harry would cover its purpose and weakness.

"An Inferius is a reanimated dead body. They are skeletal, gaunt creatures with barely recognizable unique features. Originally humans, through Necromany they can come back with different abilities. They have enhanced strength, immunity to bodily damage and can even speak. Here, take a look." Malfoy whispered a spell and a translucent cube materialized in his hand.

Harry hadn't known that this would be part of the presentation.

He watched, fascinated, as what looked like a video of an Inferius appeared in the cube. It was like a video because it moved. However it wasn't like the pictures in the Daily Prophet, it didn't just move and then repeat like on a reel. It interacted with Malfoy and seemed to really exist.

Malfoy tossed it across the room and the cube floated around, the holographic Inferius snarling at the students.

Harry looked away from the cube and cleared his throat.

"Inferi are reanimated using the Dark Magic Necromancy. Inferi cannot think for themselves, they have no free will. They don't feel pain and have great strength; perfect for an army. However, they are dark creatures, and therefore hate light and heat. So in other words, their weakness is fire." Harry finished his speech and the class clapped, most of the students still focused on the cube. Malfoy snapped his fingers and the cube was gone.

"Very good, boys!" Remus told them before sending them to their seats.

When they sat down Harry leaned over and whispered to Malfoy. "How did you do that?" "What?" The Slytherin replied, the smirk on his face showing he was toying with Harry. "Make a floating cube thing with an Inferius inside of it!" "It's an old spell. My father used it when he tutored me. You just have to imagine every detail of what you want to appear and then mutter the spell. It takes that image and puts it in the cube; kind of like how you would take a memory and put it in a Pensieve. The spell is  _Doctucor_. It means to show what is in the mind."

Harry nodded. "That's amazing," Malfoy gave him a look. "For a prat."

Malfoy let out a laugh just as the bell rang. Harry didn't know whether he liked Malfoy's smile or laugh better.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait as usual.  
> I hope you all like it ^^


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cute little Harry finally coming out <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Jellyfish_skys for that recent comment. Gave me a nice push of motivation to get this out here!! And thanks to the rest of you who commented a while ago and haven’t seen an update: The Brick, ghostlyvibes, Sophie+Li, and Edna!   
> It’s been so long ;-; like months. I’m so sorry! Hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Hermione was at the library as promised. Luckily she was in a rather secluded corner, so no one would  overhear them. Harry supposed he should give Hermione more credit- of course she would chose a place that would really make it  _ private _ . The library was also pretty empty, there was only one other group of students, and they were Ravenclaws and too busy studying to pay attention to Harry as he walked in.

 

Harry sat down next to Hermione quietly, and she put away the book she had been reading. Hermione started off the conversation, giving him an encouraging smile.

 

“Alright, Harry, what is it?” She asked lightly. Harry slowly returned her smile, and looked down at the table. Obviously Hermione wasn’t trying to pressure him into anything, and that gave him the confidence he needed.

 

“So, Hermione, I already know the Wizarding World at mundane things differently than Muggles. They are two different cultures. Like, most wizards and witches don’t seem to have a problem with, say, one’s sexuality. And...I guess that’s why I’m telling you that I might have maybe figured out that I might be gay.” Harry wasn’t sure why he was so afraid. Hermione was his friend, a true friend, and friends never hurt one another, right? Harry just couldn’t stop thinking about all the times Dudley and the bigger kids at school had bullied him, and hit him. He couldn’t even remember how many times they had called him names like ‘poof’ or ‘fairy’. Harry wasn’t sure what he would do it Hermione acted the same way. He held his breath as he finished, and looked up at Hermione. She pulled him into a hug, and Harry froze, shocked.

 

“Oh, I’m so glad you decided to tell me! I’m so glad you trust me enough for that!” Hermione pulled back and recovered, lowering her voice.

 

“And you’re right. A lot of the discrimination that goes on in the Muggle world is not a problem with witches and wizards. There is less racial and sexual division; bigotry is more focused on species and blood differences. I doubt anyone would really care about whether you’re gay or not, aside from a few girls losing their hopes and dreams,” Harry laughed at that, “I mean, even Dumbledore is gay, Harry, and he’s a great wizard.”

 

“ _ Dumbledore _ ?!” Harry hissed.

 

“Oh yes. He’s not married or anything, so I can see why you might’ve not known. It’s not a big deal, so it wouldn’t be posted throughout numerous newspapers or anything. But, back onto the subject at hand. What made you decided that you think you’re gay?” Hermione inquired. Harry looked down again, fiddling with his fingers.

 

“I guess I have been...gay...for a while now, but I never really realized it until-”

 

“Draco?” Hermione finished for him, giving him a knowing look. Harry flushed and nodded. Hermione grinned and tapped her chin.

 

“I thought it might be him. Draco is a very attractive wizard, although I’m more into redheads.” Harry chuckled at that and relaxed a little bit.

 

“I started really noticing Draco’s looks at our first one-on-one Quidditch match. And I continued admiring him after that- not that I plan on getting with him or anything! I mean, blimey, he’s rather horrible to everyone, especially you.” 

 

“Maybe he’s just jealous.” Hermione reckoned, wagging her eyebrows before she let out a laugh. “I’ve actually suspected that you had an interest in men for a while.”

 

“No way.” Harry speculated, although he wasn’t so sure she hadn’t. He had to hand it to Hermione; if anyone in this school had the potential to be the next Sherlock Holmes, it was her. Her deductive skills had helped them many times. Hermione even nodded wisely, and Harry, not for the first time, wondered how she had ended up in Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw. Harry was pretty sure a couple Ravenclaws had held a petition to have her re-sorted. It was not surprising, seeing as she was the best in every class, and that wasn’t just because she had a good memory.

 

“See, Harry, in fourth year I noticed that you seemed a touch caught up with a certain Cedric Diggory. I think you might’ve interpreted that attraction incorrectly, and seeing as Cho was involved with Cedric, you pushed your interest onto her.” Hermione’s explanation did make sense. Harry could still remember the awful kiss he and Cho had exchanged. He couldn’t honestly remember what he saw in her. He felt his mood dip a little as he thought about Cedric, and how he would never see the boy again. Harry was almost glad he hadn’t realized that he liked Cedric, because that would’ve made the pain that much worse. He turned back to Hermione.

 

“You really are brilliant, Hermione, even I didn’t guess that one. I’m really glad that I told you about this, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to tell anyone else. I mean, I haven’t even done anything with another guy; what if I hate it?” Harry confessed.

 

“That’s perfectly normal, Harry. The last thing I want is for you to do something you aren’t ready for. The important thing I want you to know is that I fully support you, whichever way you go. And I know that everyone else; Ron, the Weasleys, Dean, Seamus, Neville, will be just as supportive! When you’re ready, we’ll be here for her.” Harry smiled, and hugged her once she settled. Harry felt her shudder a little, and hoped she wasn’t crying, but she simply sniffed and hugged him back.

  
“You’re my best friend no matter what, Harry. Nothing can change that.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and the gang get all dressed up for Lupin's dance. They are all very fancy-shmancy, but of course not everything turns out how Harry would like it to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh this chapter is longer than my usual ones, and I am so glad it's finally up! We're almost to a beautiful turning point <3

Hermione and Harry spent the rest of the free period studying for Charms. When the time came they made their way to lunch and met up with Ron. Ron continued his complaints about Muggle Studies, and begged Harry for help. Harry felt comforted by the familiarity of the situation. Once again he wondered why he thought Ron; who had been with him since the beginning, who had almost died for him, who had fought battles with him, wouldn’t accept him for who he was. Hermione was the only other person Harry trusted as much as Ron. He decided that he would tell Ron the next chance he got.

 

Lunch was just about finished when Dumbledore stood up and asked everyone to stand as well. Harry stood and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He was confused for just a moment before he remembered that today was Lupin’s party was today.

 

The tables in front of his vanished as Dumbledore’s voice boomed across the hall. “Today’s party will begin in fifteen minutes. Only third years and above are allowed to attend, and let’s not forget today’s host - Remus Lupin. Dismissed!” The wise wizard ushered the students to leave with a wave of his hand.

 

Harry followed Ron and Hermione to the Gryffindor common room, walking quickly up to his dorm. Dean, Seamus and Neville entered shortly afterward, followed by Ron.

 

“Hey guys, check out my new dress robes!” Ron announced, picking them up and showing them to everyone in the dorm. All the boys oooh-ed and ahh-ed sarcastically.

 

“But we loved you in the frilly ones Ronny-poo!” Seamus retorted, getting a laugh from the boys and earning a pillow to the face from Ron.

 

Harry turned away from his friends’ conversation and quickly started to change. His focus shifted to the conversation he had overheard on the Quidditch Pitch the other day. Malfoy had told Pansy that he was planning on going to the party, and he hadn’t specified if he would be going with a date. That meant that Malfoy would most likely not be dancing, which meant that maybe Harry would be able to talk to him. 

 

Not that Harry wanted to.

 

Harry was also  _ not  _ looking up ironing and fashion spells simply to impress Malfoy. He was only trying to look...presentable...for Lupin. Harry sighed as he picked at his outfit. No matter how much he denied it, Harry was seriously lusting over Draco Malfoy. Malfoy had been cruel to him in so many ways, but he was different around Harry and away from his friends. Harry wanted Malfoy to notice him. Of course no matter how unwrinkled and shiny and crisp his robes were, his hair was still a rumpled mess. However the various spells he had fired off randomly had made his hair a bit more appealing in color, and Harry saw what looked like glitter in a few strands.

 

When Harry was finished getting ready he realized that Ron was sitting impatiently on his bed, and the other three boys had already left.

 

“Bloody hell, Harry, what took so long?!” Ron demanded, standing up.

 

“Uh...experimentation?” Harry replied sheepishly. He wondered how long he had actually spent getting ready.

 

Ron headed toward the door in a fast walk. Hermione was waiting for them inside of the common room. “The dance is probably half over by now.” She scolded as soon as she spotted them. She stood up and hiked up her dress before walking out of the room.

 

Harry had to coax Ron into walking as he was staring at where Hermione had been standing with his mouth wide open. Harry expected as much. The usually frizzy-haired brunette was pretty dazzling- even to Harry’s possibly gay mind. She was wearing a strapless red dress that was long and pooled a little at her feet. The dress was decorated with gold jewels that highlighted her hair. Speaking of her hair, it wasn’t held up like it had been during 4th year. Instead it was curled and fell nicely along her shoulders.

 

Harry thwacked Ron when he started drooling.

The Great Hall was lit up brilliantly. The floating candles were replaced by what looked like floating crystals. There were hundreds more of these crystals than there had been candles, and in the center of the hall they were multicolored. The colors coming off of the crystals created colored lights that spread out over what was deemed the dance floor. It reminded Harry of a disco ball he had seen in a movie while at the Dursley’s. The ceiling usually displayed the sky above it, but this time it seemed to be displaying space. Harry noticed that a lot of people in the crowd were gazing up at the ceiling in wonder. There was music, too, though Harry wasn’t sure who was playing. 

 

There seemed to be some kind of seclusion between the third and fourth years and the fifth, sixth and seventh years. The third and fourth years were hanging back, while the upper classes were much less nervous about the dance. The center was full of students dancing in pairs and individual groups. Harry spotted a few second years trying to sneak in. Just as it seemed they’d made it Harry saw Filch grab them harshly. Harry had to give them some credit for trying. Every generation seemed to have its own set of mischief makers.

 

When Harry turned back to Ron and Hermione, they were bickering again. It sounded like Hermione was offended by Ron’s near-sexual comment. Harry wondered how they ever got along. 

 

He smiled softly and glanced toward the entrance. Still no Malfoy.

 

“Looking for someone?”

 

Harry jumped and spun around to see Lupin behind him. He tried to hide his disappointment. “Uh, no...great party though! I love the crystals!” Harry blurted gesturing up at the lights. 

 

Lupin gave him a knowing smile. “Yes, I rather liked making those. Albus encouraged all the teachers and staff to include more ‘fun activities’ in our classes this year.”

 

“Is that right? I was wondering what this party was for, I knew you wouldn’t organize a school-wide birthday party for yourself.”

 

Lupin opened his mouth the respond but was interrupted when someone in front of he and Harry said, “Weasley, your choice of wardrobe and a huge improvement compared to last time,” Harry recognized Malfoy’s voice instantly. “Although it still screams ‘poor dunce’. You’ll get to my level of style one day, don’t you worry.

 

Malfoy was standing about five feet away from a now-blushing Ron. Harry gritted his teeth at Malfoy’s comment, but he got a bit too distracted by how good Malfoy looked. Now he understood why Ron had been so enthralled earlier. Harry’s mouth was watering; Malfoy looked positively delectable.

 

He was wearing gorgeous robes that looked very expensive. However, they didn’t seem expensive in that they were distorted by gems and flashy colors, the robes were more elegant, and their obvious high quality was put on display. They almost looked like silk on Malfoy’s skin, and they were very tight fitting (although Harry was sure Malfoy was still very comfortable). The robes were a cool gray color spotted with various splotches of green. They reminded Harry of Malfoy’s eyes. What little skin showed from beneath the robes glowed as if sprinkled with pixy dust, and it made Malfoy seem both paler and brighter. Harry’s eyes traveled upward and he saw that, if possible, Malfoy’s lips had become more pink and plump than usual; contrasting nicely with the rest of Malfoy’s face. The boy’s hair was gelled back, but in a more casual and fitting manner than the globs Malfoy had used during his first year. Eventually Malfoy turned to look at Harry, and then, as if he wasn’t stunning enough already, Harry noticed his eyes. Something made Malfoy’s lashes seem fuller, and they made his eyes pop. Harry got lost in the pools of gray-silver-blue, helpless against their beauty.

 

Harry was so focused on Malfoy’s appearance that he almost missed the once-over he got from the blond. Secretly he hoped that he was meeting Malfoy’s standards. Malfoy caught Harry’s gaze and smirked (which drew Harry’s attention back to those lips), and Harry realized he was blushing. Malfoy left before he could continue to make a fool out of himself.

 

Despite how  _ devastatingly  _ good Malfoy looked Harry decided that he preferred a sweaty, tired, and wind-swept Malfoy to a decorative one. Malfoy just seemed so much more natural when he was flying. Whenever Harry had watched the Slytherin fly he had always noticed how carefree and...young Malfoy looked. Hd could tell that Malfoy loved the sport just as much as Harry, if not more. Besides, Harry preferred Malfoy with his hair down and disheveled.

 

Lupin shifted next to him, and Harry was reminded of his teacher. “Nice to see you Harry.” Lupin said, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Lupin melted into the crowd before Harry could deny what Lupin was implying. He must be horribly obvious about his infatuation with Malfoy. He felt bad for ignoring Lupin in favor of the blond, but Harry didn’t think his teacher minded too much. He moved on to grab some punch and then found a spot on the wall, alone.

 

The dance finally seemed to be in full swing. Harry noticed almost immediately that Malfoy was, in fact, dancing, and he was dancing with Pansy Parkinson. Harry never thought he’d be jealous of  _ her _ . However he did notice that Malfoy didn’t look very happy, although Harry wasn’t sure if Pansy or the dancing was causing that. Probably both. Hopefully both. Harry hated the idea of Malfoy actually enjoying the girl’s company - or anyone’s company for that matter - and from what he’d seen Pansy was annoying and conceited. Harry was pretty sure that Malfoy didn’t have any real interest and Pansy, but the Slytherin Prince was a mystery. 

 

Harry looked away and tried to let the music replace his thoughts. After a few minutes he noticed that Ron and Hermione seemed to be making up, and slowly moving toward the dance floor. It was nice to see the two of them together. They were good for each other, and they both deserved someone great.

 

_ I deserve someone great. _ Harry thought to himself, looking at the dance floor bitterly. He spotted Cho Chang dancing with a boy from Hufflepuff, and looking quite happy and recovered. Dean had taken the hand of Ginny Weasley and they were not giggling as they tried to do the waltz. Even Romilda Vane was dancing with other boys, and not even glancing Harry’s way. It wasn’t like Harry particularly wanted any of them, but he was lonely, as he had been, and he felt...unwanted.

 

His mood recovered when another couple caught his eye - Neville and Luna were twirling around, both moving their feet at expert paces. They were an interesting pair, especially since Harry thought of Luna as a much more adventurous witch. She didn’t seem to be looking for a partner, well, ever, and Harry had wondering if she was asexual more than once. But Luna was quirky, in a good way, and her...unique style and confidence could definitely benefit Neville, not matter how clumsy he was. Neville was great at dancing, though.

 

“What an odd yet surprisingly compatible couple.” A soft voice said next to him. This time, when Harry turned, it was Malfoy. When Harry didn’t respond immediately (he was staring again), Malfoy continued. “Now why is the Chosen One of all people standing in a corner, all alone?” Malfoy asked.

 

Harry recovered as the blond moved to lean against the wall. “What’s this? A Slytherin speaking to a Gryffindor in a civilized manner? Are you sure you haven’t drunken another potion?”

 

“Think you’re clever, huh?” Malfoy did not seem amused by his jab. “I know this comes as a shock, Potter, but I prefer speaking to you more than I do Pansy.”’ 

 

Harry tried to hide his excitement at that. “And where is she?”

 

Malfoy made a gesture toward the dance floor. “Occupied by Nott, thank Salazar.” Malfoy muttered. Harry watched silently as she spun around in a bright green and quite revealing dress (Godric knows Nott had noticed that factor, with all the attention he was placing on her chest). Harry wondering why she felt to need to expose herself like that, and why she thought green went with her skin tone.

 

“So...why do you even tolerate her?” Harry asked, honestly curious.

 

Malfoy looked thoughtful for a moment, like he was contemplating sharing another secret with Harry. He seemed to think better of it and murmured with no enthusiasm, “She’s not so bad.”

 

“Malfoy,” Harry whispered, his tone suddenly much more serious. “Why won’t you tell me the truth?” Harry almost looked down as he said it. He wondered how many times Malfoy had actually been honest with him over the six years they’d known one another. When they had first met, had Malfoy really looked down on Muggleborn wizards, or was he just trying to follow his father’s example? When he’d held out his hand, had he really wanted to be Harry’s friend? Even insult, every hex, every time he spoke  _ that  _ word, did he really mean it? Harry had never truly questioned it before, but over these few weeks he’d seen a whole new side of Malfoy. A kinder side. An almost lively side, at times. He wanted Malfoy to trust him, and he wanted to understand the boy that everyone thought they already knew. 

 

Then Malfoy twisted his head so quickly to look at Harry, he swear he’d heard a snap. Harry let out a startled noise, shocked that the Slytherin suddenly seemed to be shaking with rage.

 

“Merlin, Potter, you really can’t get it through you bloody head,” Malfoy uttered. “Not everyone has some fancy, shmancy, wonderful alternative side! It’ll be your fatal flaw, Potter,” The blond spat his name, his voice rising in volume and pitch, yet still at a level so no one would overhear. “You’ll be too busy thinking the Dark Lord ‘might not be so bad’ that he’ll just blast your skin off!” Malfoy snarled and glared at Harry, before he laughed hauntingly. “I can’t have a single conversation that doesn’t involve something I have to stress over.” Malfoy quavered, and Harry saw his shoulders slump. Harry couple hear the pain in his voice, and it was the first time he recognized that Malfoy didn’t need to be honest with Harry - he needed to be honest with himself. Malfoy set his glass on a spare table, sloshing the drink onto it and the floor, and started to back away, and then he quickly strode out of the Great Hall, just short of sprinting. 

  
Harry, of course, followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started this story over a year ago I hadn't really delved into the character development of characters besides Draco and Malfoy, which meant that in order to be consistent I have to keep writing certain people a certain way. It hurts because in the time between me first writing this and now I have grown to love even Pansy as a character. I love the idea that she is actually a decent person and is good friends with Draco. I might go back a rewrite some older parts so that I can make her seem less like an egotistical idiot, but I'm much too busy for that. Looks like Blaise will have to assume 'friend-who-helps-Draco-through-the-gayness', but that's okay - I love Blaise too.
> 
> Hope you guys liked this chapter! Be ready for more!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, sorry it's been a while, but here is a long ass and beautiful chapter that I spent loads of time working on.  
> Shout out to Princess Mia Meow for pushing me to write this, I now have the inspiration to write more.  
> Enjoy!!

**Draco’s PoV [and several hours earlier]**

Smiling softly, and almost fondly, Draco left Defense Against the Dark Arts and started off toward the corridor where he usually met Crabbe and Goyle. Draco tried not to think about why he was in such a happy mood.

 

He managed to get a good grade on this Inferi project, despite Lupin’s dislike for him, and that was exceptional. Potter hadn’t ruined their presentation, which was both surprising and excellent. Of course the real reason that he was smiling was because of Potter himself, not the good grade. Potter had been very curious and civil during the end of the class, and it caused Draco to think about the Gryffindor and their changing interactions throughout the past few weeks. There were arguments at first, then an eventual civility and now...friendliness? Not to mention the attraction, which was new, and not entirely unwelcome.

 

However, Draco couldn’t get attached - this was the Boy Who Lived. The Dark Lord was going to be back, and when he eventually called on his servants again, the Malfoy family would no doubt become involved. Draco couldn’t say he wanted to be, but he didn’t have much choice. And even without the impending doom of war, Draco didn’t really need Potter to start meddling and trying to ‘rescue’ him from societal pressures, or something. He had a reputation to uphold, and what was a Malfoy without reputation? And wealth, perhaps.

 

Draco was smart enough to recognize his own denial. In typical Malfoy fashion he was trying to convince himself that he wasn’t really interested in Potter as a friend or lover, but of course he was. The Golden Boy could enthrall just about anyone, and if he didn’t back the hell off Draco wasn’t going to be able to restrain himself.

 

Well, he would be able to, he had great discipline (most of the time), but he wouldn't want to.

 

Potter had a really nice arse.

 

When Draco finally emerged from his thoughts he realized that he was almost to the Slytherin common rooms and Crabbe and Goyle were walking beside him, trying to get his attention.

 

“Draco, you awake?” Crabbe said with concern. He’d probably repeated those words several times. 

 

“Yes, sorry Crabbe, Goyle,” Draco replied. “I was just thinking…” He was saved from explaining what he was thinking when the snake on the wall materialized and hissed at them, waiting expectantly for the password to the common room.

As soon as Draco entered the common room Daphne came over and put her arms around his shoulders. Draco huffed, but made no attempt to move or shrug her off.

 

“Daphne, I think you might have a rather alarming molestation problem.” Draco told her. The girl laughed and let go of him.

 

“I believe the term is slag?” Daphne replied with a smirk. “I mean what else am I supposed to do in this school besides have sex?

 

“Pursue your education?” Draco recommended.

 

Daphne gave him a look.

 

Pansy, who had been glaring jealously from a nearby couch, stood up and made her way over, ruining Draco’s happiness.

 

“So, Draco, you’re for sure going to Lupin’s party, right?” She asked for what had to be the fourth time.

 

“Unfortunately, yes.” Draco replied, walking over to one of the seats directly in front of the fireplace.

 

Undeterred, Pansy clapped her hands and scurried after him. “Excellent! I’m going too-” This was not unknown information, “Along with Daphne and Theodore and the Carrows, and plenty of other sixth year Slytherins.” 

 

Draco expected as much. Despite the general hatred against Slytherin house (it was mostly just Gryffindors), many of his housemates had friends in the other houses and enjoyed being social. Draco was also pretty sure that quite a few of them really liked Lupin as a teacher. After all, he had survived the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher curse for a whole three years now.

 

Draco looked away from Pansy as Blaise sat down on the loveseat next to him.

 

“Draco.” He greeted.

 

“Blaise. You going?”

 

“To that rad-clad professor’s party? Not a chance!”

 

Blaise was apparently not one of the Slytherins that liked Lupin. He couldn’t blame Blaise for not wanting to come to the party. There would probably be no Firewhiskey, no popular music, no floozy dances, and no fun or inappropriate party games. Even if there was an ounce of any of those Lupin couldn’t hold a candle to any of the secret parties organized in Slytherin. In fact, Draco was only going because he was trying to stay in good graces with the teacher. Even if he’d gotten a decent grade on their most recent project, Draco knew the teacher wasn’t very fond of him, and he didn’t need anything else to cause Lupin to, at least subconsciously, grade him more harshly.

 

He briefly wondered if Potter would be at the party too.

The rest of his free period was spent listening to Pansy yap about parties and what she would wear. Mind you, those outfits ranged from mildly slutty to cloth-what-cloth. Draco attempted to get her to wear more than a string.

 

He went to lunch with the other Slytherins and sat in the middle of them as usual, eating and laughing amongst them, and feeling at home. At some point his attention shifted to the Gryffindor table, and he watched Potter silently from across the room.

 

Potter wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. He was speaking wildly with gestures, probably eating with his mouth open, and making a general mess, but Draco didn’t want to look away. How was he so damn captivating?

 

Draco finally stopped glancing over with Dumbledore started his announcements. Draco looked up and scolded himself internally.  _ Why am I thinking about him? _

 

Dumbledore gave a short speech, and Draco stood as everyone else did. He took his time heading back to the common room, easily avoiding the excited third years that dashed about. As he entered his dorm he spotted Blaise lounging quietly on his bed, fiddling with some kind of puzzle device.

 

“‘Ey, Blaise. You’re really not going?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“You’re just going to sit there for a couple hours doing nothing?”

 

“If you stayed you and I could make those hours a lot more interesting.” Blaise replied, waggling his eyebrows.

 

Draco let out a laugh and started examining the robes in his closet. Blaise steered so many of their conversations in this direction that Draco was starting to worry. “Sorry, Blaise, I’m in a deep, intricate relationship with a Whomping Willow, and I can’t spare any time for you.” 

 

Blaise gave him a little pout, but then left him to his business, and for good reason. When it came to formal parties like this one, Draco was heavily concentrated on making him look the best he could. One wrong move could leave him with glitter-infested robes, or worse, and unimpressed audience.

 

He picked out a pair of robes he’d acquired last summer at a fashionable wizard market in India. The robes were mostly gray, with a lower layer of green that reached down far enough to be seen. 

 

Having picked out his robes, Draco then started on his makeup. He started by firing off a few basic spells that allowed for clearer skin and brighter colors in his eyes and hair. Then he rubbed a balm on his face and arms, which allowed for his skin to be slightly illuminated. Next he raided his stash of beauty potions and selected two. The first would enhance his eyes, and the second would improve his lips. Draco drank them both and then eyed himself in the mirror. Perfect, as usual.

 

Never say a Malfoy was modest.

 

Finally Draco got to work on his hair. This was the most complex part of his process. He brushed, washed, condition, and dried his hair before he started to style it. Genes were in his favor on the subject of hair, and Draco didn’t need any kind of dye on his flawless white-blond hair. He grabbed a small dollop of gel and slowly started working back a few choice strands. When he was younger Draco had used gallons of the stuff, along with hairspray, and had dressed his hair like someone from the 80’s might have. Experience had shown that less was better, in this case. He left a portion of his hair down, and the other half slicked up in a non-greasy manner. Then Draco put on his robes, cast a spell to make them have a slightly billowing effect (he swore that Snape used the same one), and left the bathroom.

 

He was ready.

 

When he was finally finished there was no one inside of the dorm save Blaise, who gave him an appreciative look and a once-over before waving him off.

 

Draco made his way to the Great Hall, and entered with a few other students, several of which turned to admire him. Draco ignored them in favor of surveying the Hall.

 

The party was already nearing full swing by the time he got there. While many students were still huddled in separate part of the Hall, the majority of them were dancing or chatting excitedly, holding goblets of punch and water. Draco had barely stopped to admire the crystal lights and the cheerful atmosphere before his eyes sought out a certain shaggy brunette.

 

He spotted Potter to his left, only a little ways away and on the edge of an un-dancing crowd. 

 

Against his better judgement Draco started toward Potter, recognizing that a few of his friends were gathered around him, although he was currently talking to Lupin. Draco wasn’t close enough to make out Potter’s outfit, plus the boy’s back was to him.

 

Draco frowned, and focused his annoyance on the redhead standing nearby.

 

“Weasley, your choice in wardrobe is a huge improvement from last time!” Draco snickered, although the statement was entirely true. These robes were leagues ahead of the ancient and frilly ones he had worn fourth year. Still, it was fun to see Weasley grow pink.

 

That seemed to have gotten Potter’s attention, and he turned to look at Draco.

 

Draco was surprisingly impressed with Potter. Although the spells hadn’t done anything too dramatic to Potter, Draco could see the a few results. Potter’s hair was almost tame, his robes seemed to fit better than one might expect, and the color, despite being a simple black, seemed to match Potter fittingly. Draco did spot the mark of a beauty spell amateur as glitter shone lightly in Potter’s hair. The glitter didn’t make Potter look bad, it just announced his use of the spells. However, Potter had obviously put in some effort for once, not that he really needed to, and Draco wondered what had changed in order to cause Potter to do such… maybe that change was Draco himself.

 

As Draco analyzed Potter, he noticed the Gryffindor was practically eating him up with his eyes. Draco saw what looked like lust in Potter’s expression, and he felt a bit proud. Then Potter caught his gaze and blushed in typical adorable Savior fashion.

 

Draco smirked, thrilled that he’d gotten Potter’s attention. If he had known that slim robes were this effective he’d have stopped tormenting Potter years ago.

 

Then Draco saw Pansy waving at him from behind Potter, and he remembered why he was here.

 

Draco left Potter, making his way over to Pansy and the girls she was chatting with. On his way he noticed how many people in his field of vision were checking him out.

 

Success.

 

Before Pansy could start bragging about him to the surrounding females, he held out his hand.

 

“May I have this dance?” Draco asked in a gentlemanly manner. Salazar, one would think he was a prince from some fairytale.

 

Pansy chirped happily and grabbed his hand, and he was stuck dancing with her for 15 whole minutes. It was hell. It wasn’t that she was a terrible dancer, she was actually quite good at dancing, as a pureblood should be. The problem was that she was just so pushy and grabby, shoving her chest (so full of cleavage there was hardly any room for dress) into his every five seconds. Draco had decided long ago that breasts were very overrated, and he didn’t appreciate Pansy trying to drown him in hers.

 

Luckily Nott didn’t seem to mind, and he took Pansy away from him, at least for the time being.

 

Draco sighed and moved to one of the arrangements of sofas, flopping onto one of the chairs. He briefly closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, trying to calm himself and get in a better mood. To focus he looked around the room, observing his classmates.

 

Nott and Pansy were still dancing, unsurprisingly. Crabbe and Goyle were to his right sitting down, playing some sort of game of the ground with several other students. Draco spotted Pike leaning over some girl, flirting in a very inappropriate manner, though she didn’t seem to mind. A little bit aways Daphne was flirting as well, albeit more subtly, and with three different guys. Rookwood looked positively thrilled. To the left of Daphne and her toys stood...Potter.

 

Draco watched him for a few minutes, waiting to see someone else come and hog the Boy Who Lived, but he stayed standing there, alone and secluded, near the punch bowl.

 

In the next moment Draco stood up, straightened his robes, and walked over there with purpose. He grabbed a glass of punch first, then moved closer to Potter. The clueless Gryffindor was still standing there, looking around, and he followed the brunette’s line of sight.

 

“What an odd yet surprisingly compatible couple.” He murmured next to Potter. Longbottom was dancing, surprisingly well, with that quirky Ravenclaw that Draco had seen around, and he wondered if they cancelled out one another’s weirdness. Potter jumped next to him, and Draco smirked.

 

“Now why is the Chosen One in the corner, all alone?” Draco asked lightly, attempting to snap Potter out of his daze.

 

“What’s this? A Slytherin speaking to a Gryffindor? Are you sure you've not drunk a potion?” At the mention of potion Draco felt a little sick. He couldn’t believe he’d given himself his own love potion.

 

Draco scowled, although he wasn’t really angry, and rolled his eyes. “Think you’re clever, huh?” Draco paused to have some of his drink. It was far too tangy. “I know this comes as a shock, Potter, but I prefer speaking to you more than I do Pansy.” Draco glanced at Potter, gauging his reaction. He seemed pleased.

 

“And where is she?” Potter asked.

 

Draco waved a hand toward the dance floor. “Occupied by Nott, thank Salazar.” Draco took another sip of the too-sweet punch.

 

“So...why do you even tolerate her?” Potter pressed.

 

A bit taken aback, Draco looked down. Didn’t Potter know anything about politics? Pansy was a pureblood and a girl, which meant she was perfect for an arranged marriage and dishing out Malfoy babies. Draco opened his mouth to say as much, but decided against it. He didn’t need to ruin the mood with talk of politics. 

 

“She’s not so bad.” He said instead, his answer sounding pathetic, even to his own ears.

 

Potter saw right through him. “Malfoy, why can’t you tell me the truth?”

 

Maybe it was because he was sick of this dance, maybe it was the crappy music, maybe it was the fucking  _ heavily sugared punch _ , but the statement made him furious. Potter, with his bloody hero complex and his kind voice and his stupid sexified hair couldn’t keep to himself. Draco swung his head up, fixing Potter with a glare that could kill a cockatrice.

 

“Merlin, Potter, you really can’t get it through your bloody head. Not everyone has some fancy, shmancy, wonderful alternative side! It’ll be your fatal flaw,  _ Potter _ , you’ll be too busy think the Dark Lord ‘might not be so bad’ that he’ll blast your skin off!” Draco snarled, barely able to control the volume of his voice. For the first time in a while he wanted to hit Potter. He wanted to punch him in his teeth, and roll around in the dirt, wandless and bloody. He wanted to forget about the arranged marriage he would have to go through. He wanted to forget about the facades he showed the world. He wanted to forget about the fact that no, he couldn’t tell Potter the truth, or anyone the truth. Trust was not a word a Malfoy on the dark side of a war could ever use.

 

Draco laughed to hide the sob that threatened to crawl out of his throat. “I can’t have a single conversation that doesn’t involve something I have to stress over.” He muttered, almost to himself.

 

Draco felt his anger leave him, and he resisted the urge to lie down and escape the pressure.

 

Suddenly his head was pounding, and Draco couldn’t take it. He put his punch on the table, ignoring the spill, ignoring everyone, and turned to run.

 

He didn’t actually run, but he did move at such a brisk pace he was certain people noticed. He could hear his father’s voice in his head, scolding him during a childhood tantrum.  _ Don’t let them see how you really feel. _

 

He kept calm until he got out of the Great Hall and found a move secluded corridor. He gripped at his hair and started to pace. Draco could feel the tears that threatened to surface, but he wouldn’t let them. He’d always hated crying, it made him feel gross and weak, which was irrational, and he hated that too. Because Malfoys weren’t supposed to cry, and he didn’t want to constantly have to be a ‘Malfoy’. He just about punch something but -

Potter was behind him.

 

“What the fuck do you want, Potter,” Draco asked, but he knew full well what Potter wanted. “Quit delving into that hero complex of yours!”

 

“I don’t have a hero complex, Malfoy, I just want to help!”

 

Draco scoffed and looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t want your pity.” He snapped, hoping his voice didn’t waver. He was sick of this. He was sick of Potter trying to help. He didn’t need help, he wasn’t weak.

 

“It’s not pity, Malfoy!” Potter shouted. Draco looked down at him, a little surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Is it really so bad that I just want to know what’s going on with you?”

 

“Yes, it is so damn bad because it’s none of your business! Stop trying to get involved!” Draco hissed. Maybe if he said it enough times, Potter would be discouraged and stop trying. Draco knew he wouldn’t though. Potter was a nosy fuck, he’d been such since first year, and he never gave up.

 

“Except, Malfoy, it is my business. It became my business when I had to interact with you in the majority of my classes. It’s my business when you say and do infuriating things that affect me and my friends, but I can’t even judge or attack you because I don’t even know if that’s how you really feel! Just tell me what’s going on, Malfoy,  _ please _ .”

 

Maybe it was the truth in his words, or the confidence in his tone, or the blatant begging, but Draco could feel his barriers crumbling.

 

In a feeble attempt to stop the inevitable, Draco protested. “How do I know this isn’t some ‘laugh at Malfoy’ plot?”

 

“You’ll just have to trust me.” Potter replied, without hesitation.

 

Draco shouldn’t.

 

He wasn’t supposed to.

 

He was a  _ Malfoy _ .

 

He  _ should _ go grab his mask, put it on, and go back to the dance and kiss Pansy and marry her and have children and study law and torment Muggleborns and join Voldemort and rule the world and -

 

He shouldn’t.

 

Couldn’t.

 

_ Couldn’t _ .

 

But he wanted to.

 

Trust.

 

He surrendered.

  
“Not here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh this was such an intense ending scene to write, but I loved doing it. I hoped you guys liked it! Look forward to another chapter, which I'll try not to end on such a cliff hanger ;P


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again sorry for the hold up. Another chapter, here ya go!  
> Thanks again to Mia for her harsh pressuring <3

******Harry’s PoV**

Harry followed Malfoy, feeling numb. They didn’t talk, and Harry watched the end of Malfoy’s robe, turning when it did.

 

Vaguely he heard Ron’s voice in the back of his head telling him that,  _ “All the bad one’s come from Slytherin” _ . Harry was reminded that he was following Lucius Malfoy’s son into a random room, alone, where he could be easily ambushed. 

 

However that same son, who so many Hogwarts students and Ministry skeptics didn’t trust, admitted, although through actions not through words, that he would trust Harry.

 

Harry wouldn’t betray that trust.

 

Even if Malfoy wasn’t a Death Eater’s son, even if Harry wasn’t attracted to every inch of him, even if this wasn’t  _ Malfoy _ , Harry wouldn’t betray that trust.

 

Harry knew too much about second chances, and being stuck inside of lies.

 

In second year a lot of people had accused Harry of being the Heir of Salazar Slytherin because he had arrived at every scene, and was a Parselmouth. It happened again in fourth year when everyone, including Ron, thought he’d gotten into the Triwizard Tournament by cheating. 

 

Malfoy had been a prat for the past five years, but he was...different since the potion, and Harry believed he could, if he hadn’t already, change.

 

He had asked Malfoy to trust Harry, so Harry would have to do the same to Malfoy.

 

When Malfoy’s feet stopped moving Harry halted and looked up.

 

“How?” Harry gaped.

 

“You’re not the only one who knows about this school’s secrets.” Malfoy answered with a smirk, before he opened the door. “I’m sure you remember the Room of Requirement.”

 

* * *

 

Harry walked into the Room of Requirement slowly, remembering all the memories from his time with Dumbledore’s Army. He hadn’t been here since last year.

 

The Room had changed, of course, now that it was not needed to hold over twenty people. Currently it was about the size of a large living room, with a soothing fireplace, a few couches, and a centered table. 

 

“This is nice. Have you been here earlier this year?” Harry asked as Draco moved to sit in front of the fireplace.

 

“Yes.” Draco said, his tone stiff, not looking to expand.

 

“Do you-”

 

“I’m sure you’re not here for small talk, Potter.” Draco snapped, tilting his head to glare at him.

 

Harry swallowed and then sat down across from Malfoy. As soon as he did Malfoy put one leg over the other and started talking.

 

“Contrary to popular belief I don’t hate you. Dislike you, perhaps, but I’m not really all that interested in your departure from the world.” Malfoy informed him.

 

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. As discriminatory as it was, Harry had thought Malfoy was following Voldemort’s agenda, at least to a point. Harry didn’t trust gossip and rumor, especially after what had happened 2nd year, but he knew the Death Eater remarks involving the Malfoys held some truth. He had seen Lucius Malfoy under his mask twice now, although he had no way of proving it. While his son didn’t seem to be quite as cruel, at least not anymore, Harry knew how much Malfoy cared about his family, and Harry assumed Malfoy would publicly support some of Voldemort’s beliefs and objectives.

 

Harry did, however, realize that they were not in public. Along with that, Malfoy seemed to be trusting him, really trusting him, if he was telling Harry things that would contradict Malfoy’s social opinions.

 

Harry should start trusting as well. 

 

He looked down guiltily and asked without anger, “So then why all the grief? You’ve tormented me since day one.”

 

Malfoy twitched, and Harry saw a flicker of what might’ve been a grimace at his last word.

 

“Actually, it wasn’t since day one. In fact I did the opposite of tormenting you on ‘Day One’,” Malfoy said, quoting the words with his fingers. “As I recall, I tried to welcome you. I offered you my friendship, and you rejected it,”

 

Harry blinked and looked over at Malfoy. He’d forgotten about that! Although he’d done it very arrogantly and in a manner that reminded Harry of Dudley, Malfoy  _ had  _ held out his hand. It was weird to think about; what if? What if he’d taken Malfoy’s hand? Would he hate Muggle-borns? Would he be a Slytherin? Would they be... _ together? _

 

Harry sucked in a breath, trying to push down the ache, the  _ want _ , he felt from the idea.

 

“Besides, what did you expect, Potter?” Malfoy continued, pulling Harry from his thoughts. “The Malfoys are a highly respected and prestigious family, and you, The Chosen One, refused my hand, and for a Weasley of all people! Scruffy and poor, a disgrace to purebloods -- that’s how my father described them. What was I supposed to tell people, anyways? ‘Oh well, he didn’t want to be friends, that’s that’? I had to make you regret your rejection, and when I was younger I really wanted you to suffer. Of course as I matured I realized that it was a pain in my arse to hate you.”

 

It made Harry happy, knowing that Malfoy didn't hate him. It also made him hopeful…

 

“If you, er, don’t hate me but have to act like you do, then why have you been acting, uh, friendly,”

 

Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

 

“Sometimes!” Harry amended, his cheeks beginning to burn. “Sometimes acting friendly towards me?”

 

Malfoy chuckled and turned towards the fire. “The main reason is because our shite Headmaster forced me to partner with you in every class, so I figured I might as well try and be civil. Also, note that I have not publically declared our friendship, so it doesn’t really count against my fake hatred for you.”

 

“So we are friends?” Harry blurted, feeling embarrassed at how enthusiastic he sounded.

 

“Mildly.” Malfoy allowed.

 

Harry tried not to grin. 

 

He failed.

 

“Then, um,” Harry tried to think of another topic that might be debatable. “How do you really feel about Muggle-borns?”

 

“I’m not overly fond of Muggle-borns; they lack magical knowledge, rarely understand the knowledge even if they have it, and they’re generally annoying to deal with. Like you,”

 

Harry scoffed, and Malfoy smirked.

 

“Granger herself is actually pretty neutral on my like/dislike scale -- she’s smart, I’ll give her that.”

 

“So then why are you always acting like you’re better than her?”

 

“Merlin, Potter, do you ever pay attention? I act like I’m better than her because almost everyone I know thinks I  _ am  _ better than her. My family, like a lot of purebloods, thinks Muggle-borns are a lesser being. And let me explain something. Unlike you, I can’t break substantial rules and get off with a few lectures or lost House points. When I break rules I’m not only lectured, I’m also punished, threatened, and shunned. Reputation is everything for a Malfoy, and in order to survive in pureblood society I have to be obedient, well-dressed, and well-opinionated -- by their standards. I’m too selfish to rebel -- I’m not going to lose everything just to spare a few people’s feelings.”

 

“How would you lose everything, what can-”

 

“What can my father do?” Malfoy interrupted, reading his mind. “My father can throw me out, cross my name off the records, and never speak to me again. I wouldn’t be able to see him or Mother. I’d be ruined! Poorer than a Weasley, and treated worse than a Mudblood! I do have pride, Potter. And even if my father allowed me to continue being his heir, the Malfoys have always known quite a bit about Dark Magic.” Malfoy finished, giving Harry a cool look that didn’t hide his frustration.

 

Once Harry caught Malfoy’s meaning he snapped out of his chair. Malfoy was insinuating that his father knew Dark spells, and would, maybe already had, use them on his own  _ son _ . Harry knew first hand what living in an abusive household felt like.

 

“Does your father do that to you?” Harry roared. “Abuse you?!”

 

Harry could feel his blood boiling. He got that feeling again, the strong need to  _ protect _ .

 

Malfoy visibly flinched, and Harry realized that maybe shouting wasn’t the best way to handle this situation. Then the blond stood up and glared sharply at Harry.

 

“It’s not abuse, _Potter_ , it’s discipline, and don’t you dare accuse him of anything else!” Malfoy snarled just as hotly.

 

Taken aback, Harry unclenched his fists.

 

“Malfoy, I want to-”

 

“What, you thought you could change something? I gave you your answers, I kept my promise, now get out and leave me alone!”

 

“But-”

 

“Did I ask  you ,” Malfoy jabbed him in the chest with his index finger. “For help? No, I have to deal with all of this myself, as I have been for sixteen fucking years! I have a reputation to uphold, and don’t think I’m sacrificing it to satisfy your Savior needs. You’re lucky I told you anything in the first place.”

 

Malfoy turned to leave, but he stepped back, locking eyes with Harry once again.

 

“I’m trusting you Potter,  _ hear that _ _? _  Know that if you ever, if you _ ever  _ tell anyone what I told you, I’ll kill you.”

 

Harry let out a gasp. He hadn’t though much of Malfoy’s threats before this one. Malfoy’s tone had venom in it. Harry was actually frightened. Even more than that, he was shocked and...hurt. He could feel his eyes welling up, and he wiped them away, feeling abashed.

 

He had been friends with Malfoy for a few moments there. And then he had ruined it with his anger and impulsive attitude.

 

Even worse, Harry was starting to realize that this, this thing with Malfoy wasn’t just some kind of attraction. He was starting to  _ like _ Malfoy, really like him, so much that he was close to crying.

 

Harry took a few deep breaths to calm himself. 

 

He’d fix this.

 

Harry wasn’t sure how, but he’d find Malfoy tomorrow and do...do something, and win him back.

 

Harry left the room feeling pathetic and muttering delusional solutions.

 

* * *

 

That night Demelza Robins died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh heh heh  
> All will be explained
> 
> Maybe


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's been so long! I am terrible at this 'post frequently' thing. Once again, thank you Princess Mia for pushing me into writing more.

**Draco’s PoV**

Draco didn’t bother heading back to the party, it was going to be done in a half an hour or so anyways. Besides, he wouldn’t be able to focus on the dance after everything that had just happened.

 

The nerve of that Gryffindor tosser! What did Potter expect, anyways? A deep, cleansing, heart-to-heart that would make all their problems go away? No wonder Voldemort was still at large.

 

 _Granger must be the only sane one,_ he thought.

 

Draco clenched his fists and stopped walking. Potter was an idiot and he didn’t know anything -- about him, or his father. Draco crossed his arms and bit his lip. Even though Potter was anything but brilliant, Draco felt as if he was overreacting a little bit. He knew Potter only wanted to help him, but Potter had accused his father of something horrible. The brunette didn’t understand that that was how it was among most purebloods. For a moment Draco had actually wanted to get rid of Potter, for a moment Potter was a _threat_.

 

Now that Draco actually thought about it, though, Potter was anything but. He was trying to help, they were growing closer, and Draco trusted him more than anyone else.

 

Draco actually liked him, which was very weird and very new. He liked Potter’s smile and he certainly liked Potter’s arse. Even more than that, he was starting to like Potter’s heroism too. The Gryffindor was kind, loyal, and sincere. Draco saw that he wasn’t seeking attention, but rather he actually enjoyed helping people. Potter was a good person and for some reason, he’d decided to stoop down to Draco’s level and pull him up. The problem was, Draco was a Malfoy, and he’d already dug down so deep that no one could haul him out of the mess he was in. Which meant if Potter tried to reach Draco and take him from the dark, from Voldemort, the brunette would only fall in himself.

* * *

 

Draco arrived at the dorms only a couple minutes before the dance would end. The common room held a few first and second years who were relaxing while everyone else was gone. They all gave him a wide birth, and Draco didn’t see a single sixth year. Draco checked Blaise’s room but he wasn’t inside, and Pansy wasn’t back from the dance yet either. Draco sighed and moved to sit in one of the open loveseats in front of the common room’s fireplace. Draco closed his eyes and slackened under the warmth of the crackling flame.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he was out, but when he woke up Draco heard the sounds of drunken laughter. A few sixth and seventh years were streaming through the door, all chattering excitedly. Draco sat up slowly and Adrian Pucey caught his eye.

 

“Hey, Malfoy, why didn’t you come back to the party?” Adrian asked, holding up a bottle of Firewhiskey. Draco watched as some of the liquid sloshed onto the carpeted floor.

 

“Didn’t feel like it.”

 

“Oh, really? Sure you weren’t fraternizing with Potter?” Adrian slurred, much to the other boys’ pleasure. Pike, Harper, and Jugson cackled along with Adrian.

 

“Yeah, Potter looked a little flushed when he came back,” Harper added. The boys chortled, and Draco saw Crabbe and Goyle nervously glance around behind them.

 

Draco stood up and glared at them, but the drunken teens didn’t stop there.

 

“What did you guys do?” Pike asked in an innocent tone. “You were gone for almost an hour.”

 

Adrian grinned and walked towards Draco, “How was he, Malf-”

 

Before Adrian could finish Draco rushed forward and grabbed him by the collar. Crabbe and Goyle took this as a sign to move and lumbered over to stand behind Adrian. They loomed over Adrian threateningly, defending Draco. Adrian’s friends stopped laughing and backed away from Draco and his goons. The conversations had stopped as everyone watched what was sure to become a fight. Adrian stopped smiling.

 

“You dare accuse me of being with _Potter_ of all people?!” Draco roared.

 

“You-you’re with him all the time!” Adrian stammered, sounding nervous.

 

Draco didn’t move a muscle. The only sounds were the crackle of the fire and Adrian Pucey’s rapidly increasing breaths.

 

“The Malfoy’s aren’t as threatening as they used to be! You better let go!” Adrian pleaded, struggling against Draco’s hold on his collar.

 

Everyone held their breath as Draco slowly pulled out his wand and placed it on Adrian’s neck.

 

“Yes, my father isn’t here right now, but you know,” Draco informed in a dark, cool voice. “He did teach me a few spells. Alohomora, Expelliarmus, _Avada Kedavra_.”

 

Adrian struggled more frantically. “Y-you wouldn’t!”

 

“Would I? I can certainly use a different Unforgivable if death is a bit too much. One thing’s for sure -- we Malfoys have a lot of money. I’m sure we could come up with a reasonable amount for all the witnesses in this room.”

 

Adrian paled and grabbed the hand holding his collar. “Look, I’m sorry, okay, it was just a joke!”

 

“I don’t know...Crabbe, do you think he’s really sorry?” Draco asked through a smile full of malice. Before Crabbe could open his mouth there was a ruckus at the common room entrance.

 

“Enough!” Theodore Nott shouted as he burst into the room. “Will you all stop?!”

 

Draco looked at Nott’s disheveled appearance and let go of Adrian.

 

“Demelza Robins is dead.”

* * *

 

Snape entered the common room shortly after Nott’s announcement, but everyone was already in a bit of a panic. The younger students huddled together while one of the fifth year prefects tried to console them. Other older students that had been around to witness the troubles during Draco’s second year stood calmly in groups muttering about what was wrong. Draco himself stood next to Crabbe and Goyle, silent and deep in thought. He could already see eyes on him. He had been away from the party…

 

Snape snapped his fingers to get the attention of the Slytherins.

 

“A Gryffindor fifth year was found alone on the second floor. It has been determined that she has died, although we do not know how. There is no cause for alarm, Dumbledore will explain everything in the morning. Now, off to your dorms!”

 

Snape left the Slytherin dorms in a flourish of black robes and the students in the common room started towards their beds, updating those who were previously asleep. Draco crossed his arms and waited as students filed in. Shortly after Snape left Blaise slipped in through the entrance.

 

“Blaise, you’re back. Did you hear?” Draco asked, going over to him.

 

“Hear what, that Robins died?” Blaise confirmed nonchalantly.

 

“Yeah. Do you have any idea how?”

 

“Who cares,” Blaise sniffed. “She’s only a Mudblood, it’s not a real loss.”

 

Draco gritted his teeth. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would’ve been like if Granger had been the Gryffindor Muggle-born to die. Potter would be devastated, Weasley even more than that. Draco didn’t think he’d be fine, either.

 

“I’m just worried that if she was murdered someone might be targeting students again -- maybe even purebloods.”

 

“You’ve gone soft, Draco. Don’t think I haven’t seen you hanging around that filthy know-it-all Granger. You’ve changed -- protecting Mudbloods and snogging Potter.” Blaise tsked.

 

“I haven’t been doing shite with Potter!” Draco argued, fed up.

 

“ _I_ know that, but no one else does. I know what these rumors will do to your reputation. Potter is not someone you should be hanging around, but you already knew that.” Blaise gave Draco a look and then headed towards his room.

 

“Hold on, Blaise. You said you weren’t going to the party tonight, so where were you?”

  
For a split second Blaise looked nervous, but then his features schooled into a casual smirk. “I was...with a friend.” Blaise winked and then disappeared behind the door to his dorm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't write too much about it but hope you guys are satisfied with what's going on with Demelza Robins. If you aren't, you'll figure it out soon enough. ;)


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so proud of myself -- I got this one out only a few WEEKS after I posted the last chapter.  
> Enjoy!!

**Harry’s PoV**

Harry ate his breakfast quietly, like most everyone in the Great Hall. The death of Demelza had put a damper on the atmosphere of Hogwarts, and most of the students, especially the younger ones, were terrified.

 

It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours and there were already rumors. Demelza’s friends said that she had left the party in order to find some boy she liked -- although Demelza hadn’t said who it was. Some people claimed that they’d seen dark shadows on the second floor. Some said they’d heard hissing noises and that the Basilisk was back. Yet, there was one theory that seemed to be sticking. The suspicion was that Demelza Robins had gone looking for Draco Malfoy, and Draco Malfoy had been consorting with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Demelza Robins found them, and so Draco Malfoy killed her.

 

Harry didn’t believe a word of it -- he had been with Malfoy most of the night. He didn’t know where Malfoy had gone after the argument but there was no way he had left to meet with Voldemort. Harry knew Lucius was a Death Eater, and he knew there was a  _ possibility _ that Malfoy was a Death Eater too, he just hoped otherwise. The whole thing kept reminding Harry of all the reasons why he shouldn’t be friends with Malfoy, and how dangerous the fair-haired student was. Harry hated thinking about it but what if Malfoy was manipulating him? What if Malfoy was on the other side of this war and he was drawing them in so that when the time came Harry would lose the fight with Voldemort. Or maybe that fight would be with Malfoy.

 

Harry shook his head. He had to trust Malfoy, especially since Malfoy trusted him. He was just being paranoid. Harry would stay wary of the Slytherin, just in case, but he didn’t believe that Malfoy had murdered Demelza. Voldemort might have, Merlin knows the snake kept finding new ways to get into Hogwarts, but Draco didn’t.

 

Harry was interrupted from his thoughts by a loud ringing sound. The metal owl on Dumbledore’s pedestal was beating its wings together, making a bell-like sound.

 

“Hogwarts students,” Dumbledore called in a booming voice. “I am sure you are all aware of the death of Demelza Robins.”

 

Demelza’s friends started sobbing again with renewed vigor.

 

“It is a great loss and, after investigation, it seems that her death was not an accident. However, stay calm. From now on no student younger than 16 is to walk through this castle without a partner. I would suggest older students walk with younger students so as to protect them. This is a time for unity. Third year pupils and below will be escorted to their next classes by their teacher. Stay vigilant, students, and I am sure this will not happen again. Our thoughts go out to the friends and family of Demelza during this troubled time. We wish you all well. Late afternoon classes will be excused as there will be a funeral hosted on the Quidditch field. All are welcome. Dismissed.”

 

There was a great clatter after Dumbledore finished speaking. Younger students ran to one another, muddled together into bunches of four to ten people. They were obviously frightened, and House prefects drifted through groups, consoling them. Many siblings linked arms or held hands, chittering to one another.

 

Hermione pushed away her porridge and stood up. Ron jumped up too and took her hand. Harry met up with them once the two reached the edge of the table.

 

“You guys okay?” Harry asked them.

 

“I-I’m okay. I’m really hoping that,” Hermione dropped her voice to a whisper. “Voldemort didn’t do this, but that’s doubtful. I’m also worried about...Malfoy.”

 

Hermione gave Harry a sympathetic look, and Ron shook gritted his teeth.

 

“Blimey, Harry, what is it with you and Malfoy? You heard the rumors, he might’ve been the one to do it! What do you think he could do to you?” Ron demanded.

 

Harry tossed his head and was reminded that he needed to tell Ron about his discovery involving Malfoy and sexuality.

 

“He didn’t do it. I’m certain.”

 

Ron looked skeptical, but nodded, “If you say so, oh Chosen One. But keep an eye out. I’ll see you in Charms.”

 

Ron left for class and Hermione followed, waving goodbye to Harry. Harry waved back to both of them and then, after a moment, went to go find Malfoy. Harry remembered that Malfoy had a free period this morning, just like Harry. He wasn’t sure where the Slytherin might be but he figured he’d find him eventually. Harry was sure that Malfoy would be stressed out because of all the gossip. Hopefully, the grey-eyed boy had calmed since their last meeting and would actually listen to Harry. He was sure that at the very least he could help Malfoy through all this reputation stuff, if not take Malfoy from all the expectations completely. Harry would be his friend.

* * *

 

By the time Harry finally found Malfoy the free period was almost over.

 

Harry had almost missed him in his quick scans of the hallways but, fortunately, he’d spotted the blond in one of the alcoves on the second floor. Malfoy had wedged himself on top of a beam that sat between two ionic columns, and he was muttering to himself and scribbling something down on parchment.

 

“Malfoy!” Harry exclaimed, thrilled to have found the fair-haired boy.

 

Malfoy’s head snapped up and he looked down, his face morphing from surprise to anger.

 

“Potter,” He growled, sliding off the beam and landing with a dull thud in front of Harry. “What do you want?”

 

Harry stepped back, feeling a little sheepish and a whole lot more nervous. Malfoy fixed him with such a dangerous glare that Harry was worried he’d made a mistake coming here.

 

“Look, Malfoy, as I told you before, I want to help. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone!”

 

Malfoy’s lip curled and he took a threatening step towards Harry, “What does that even mean?”

 

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, his gaze firmly on Malfoy’s impressive mouth, “Just...you know...all the new rumors.” Harry stuttered.

 

“I didn’t fucking kill Demelza Robins, and I don’t want to be seen in random corners with you of all people!” 

 

Harry looked at Draco and noticed how close they were, their noses almost touching. The tension was evident, almost sexual although not quite, and Harry felt weighed down by it.

 

“Malfoy-”

 

Harry stopped as he heard giggling. He shifted his gaze slightly to see three girls, two Ravenclaws and a Slytherin, walking down the hall and chatting quietly. When they spotted the two boys their eyes widened, and they started whispering. The girls quickly turned around and hurried back the way they came, stealing glances at the boys as they left.

 

Harry and Malfoy watched them go.

 

“ _ Potter! _ ” Malfoy hissed, his tone escalating and dragging out Harry’s surname. The blond grabbed Harry’s robes in both his fists and shook him, “See what you’ve done?!” Malfoy let go of him, threw up his hands and then stormed away.

 

Harry stared after him but did not follow. There seemed to be a pattern here, as once again Malfoy was leaving angry and nothing had been solved. Harry was debating on whether or not he should quit this whole endeavor that he just kept making worse. No doubt there would be new gossip about their supposed love affair out and about before noon. No wonder Malfoy hated him, Harry was only making the situation worse. Harry decided that he would just wait and hope that the whispers about him and Malfoy would die, and then when they did he could reconcile with the other boy and support him through this troublesome period.

 

The problem was Harry didn’t think these rumors would die. They never seemed to when ‘The Boy Who Lived’ was involved. Besides, it wasn’t all false. While he and Malfoy had never done anything, Harry certainly wanted to. Like a fool he was enthralled by the Slytherin, everyone was. The issue with snakes, though, was that all they do is bite.

* * *

 

Harry was glad to escape from the eyes in the Great Hall to Charms after lunch. Charms wasn’t the best class but during it Harry wouldn’t have to be surrounded by six hundred some odd students speculating over his life. This time it would only be around twenty.

 

Flitwick assigned them to work individually on non-verbal spells, and class passed quickly. Harry kept attempting  _ Levicorpus _ , but he found he couldn’t concentrate because he kept hearing the whispers from his tablemates and the other people around him.

 

_ “Harry has been with Malfoy this whole time…” _

 

_ “I think they’re in love…” _

 

_ “Both of them left the dance, Zacharias saw it…” _

 

_ “Can’t believe Potter’s gone dark…” _

 

Harry wasn’t sure what it all meant, he only caught snippets, but it seemed like the rumors about Demelza didn’t just involve Malfoy anymore.

* * *

 

A lot of the school went to Demelza’s funeral, and the students were put into different sections of the bleachers based on year. Harry sat with the other sixth years while the teachers performed a grieving ceremony and select students gave speeches about Demelza and how amazing she had been. Harry was glanced and glared at many times throughout the funeral, but he didn’t pay it too much attention. He did, however, notice that there was a certain silver-haired individual absent from the sixth year stand or any stand for that matter. This would no doubt spur more rumors about Malfoy’s involvement in Demelza’s unfortunate passing. It did nothing but stress Harry out.

* * *

 

Harry went to Ancient Runes on Friday in a foul mood. People had been talking about him all day (although Harry still didn’t know what exactly they were saying) and Malfoy was nowhere in sight. Harry didn’t have any classes with the Slytherin on Friday, and so far Malfoy had failed to show up to any of the meals in the Great Hall.

 

Harry felt anxious. He was so used to seeing Malfoy and being around him that he didn’t know what to do now that the other boy was gone. Harry...missed him. They had become so involved over the past few weeks that Harry felt almost lonely without him. That feeling combined with all the whispers didn’t make Harry feel very positive.

 

The good thing about Ancient Runes was that Harry didn’t have it with Slytherins, which meant he could be partnered with Ron and Hermione. While he wanted to see Malfoy as soon as possible, he was just as happy to see his friends and talk to them. As soon as he got there Harry sat down at their designated table and sighed.

 

“Hey Ron, Hermione! First and last class of the day for me. How have you all been?” Harry asked in as cheerful a manner he could.

 

Ron frowned, “It’s been a day of defending you. Can you believe they think you were involved? Of all people?!”

 

“Wait, what?” Harry exclaimed. “Involved in what?”

 

“Haven’t you heard the rumors, Harry?” Hermione questioned.

 

“I’ve only heard fragments, I don’t know anything foolproof.” 

 

Ron huffed and looked down, “Look, mate, I don’t think any of this barmy shite is true, but some people are saying that since you’ve been hanging around Malfoy you’ve joined the Dark Side, or are going to. They think Demelza left to follow  _ you _ , and when she found you and Malfoy consorting, you killed her.”

 

Harry stared at Ron in shock. He would’ve thought that after second year people would realize that Harry wasn’t a killer. Harry would never be a part of Voldemort’s Side, and he certainly wouldn’t hurt anyone, not like that. Harry wasn’t a murderer and he was sure Draco wasn’t one either.

 

“That’s bollocks,” Harry muttered, clenching his fists.

 

“Everyone is just scared, Harry, they don’t know what to do. There were plenty of people gone from the party, they’re just pinning it on you and Draco because they need someone to blame.” Hermione reasoned.

 

Harry put his head on his crossed arms, closing his eyes, “I don’t understand why everyone can’t just mind their own business.”

 

Harry lifted his head as Bathsheda Babbling started explaining the tasks of the day. It was relatively simple work and when she was done talking the Trio started up their conversation again.

 

“Did you know Demelza?” Harry inquired, looking at Hermione.

 

She shook her head, “I’m not friends with most of the Gryffindor girls, especially the ones outside of our grade. I prefer Ravenclaws. I saw her around, and maybe we spoke once or twice, but we were never close. Hardly even acquaintances. I heard that she was kind, though, and very talented when it came to Transfiguration. Also, I found out that she was friends with quite a few Slytherins, like Blaise Zabini and the Carrow twins. That’s why people think she had her eye on Draco since she’d been around that lot.”

 

“You know I couldn’t even remember what she looked like? I’ve seen the photos now, but when I heard her name I wasn’t sure who it was. I guess I just haven’t paid much attention to the younger students, aside from Ginny, and that’s your sister.” Harry finished, gesturing to Ron.

 

“I’m pretty sure Ginny was friends with her,” Ron replied. “But I can’t remember. I haven’t spoken to Ginny yet, she’s always with other people from her last year, comforting them and all. I feel like a prat because I didn’t remember Demelza. I hope she didn’t suffer.

 

The three of them stopped talking, all mourning the girl they didn’t know in their own way. They spent the rest of the class in silence, working quietly.   


* * *

 

It was late in the afternoon on Sunday when Harry gave into the urge to go find Malfoy.

 

It had been almost three days since Harry had seen the blonde boy, and that was both worrying and annoying. Harry had no idea if Malfoy was okay, and he was getting anxious and fidgety without him.

 

Harry figured that he would start looking for Malfoy in the various corridors and empty rooms in Hogwarts as that was where he had found the Slytherin last time. Harry didn’t pass many people as the majority of students were outside. Some were having friendly Quidditch matches before the season started, some were playing wizarding games by the lake, and others just sat or walked around, talking and soaking up the sun. Harry wandered the halls in silence, and after almost an hour he started to get lost in everything that was Hogwarts. This great castle was massive and gorgeous. Harry never saw enough of it. Even after six years he still found new nooks and crannies all the time. He loved to admire the architecture, portraits, and trophies scattered throughout the school. Every floor and every hall had something unique in it, from rare obelisks to hidden statues from centuries ago.

 

Harry was admiring a cameo carving when he heard someone call his name. Harry turned, his hands in his robe pockets, and smiled when he spotted Ginny walking his way.

 

“Ginerva.”

 

Harry laughed when Ginny wrinkled her nose, “Don’t, Harry, you know I hate that name.

 

“Why aren’t you with a partner? After what Dumbledore said-”

 

“I can handle myself.” Ginny infringed defiantly.

 

Harry smiled contently. He’d always liked how fierce Ginny was, “What brings you here?”

 

“I was on my way to the Ravenclaw common room to see Luna and I saw you wandering around. I figured I should confront you about everything that’s been going on,” She paused and Harry nodded, prompting her to continue. “Harry, I don’t know what to believe. With all these rumors going around...”

 

“Ginny, you should know they’re not real! Malfoy and I have hated each other for years.” Harry insisted.

 

“But you have been seeing him?”

 

“Well, yes, but-”

 

“First there are rumors that you’ve been shagging Malfoy, next there are rumors that he’s killed a girl! Some say you’ve  _ teamed up _ ! This could turn into second year all over again. Worse still, people say Malfoy’s coming after you.” Ginny exclaimed, her voice rising in anger, then lowering in concern.

 

Harry shook his head, trying not to feel offended, “Look, I’ve been talking with Malfoy but we’re not fucking and he’s not a murderer.”

 

“How can you be so sure?”

 

“I just know,” Harry assured her. Ginny looked away, doubtful. “Trust me.”

 

Ginny sighed and nodded slowly, “I hope you’re right.”

 

She looked disappointed, and Harry thought he knew why. Ever since he’d saved her from Tom Riddle the two of them had a connection. Harry expected that Ginny wanted more when it came to him. There was a time during fifth year where he’d felt the same way. Maybe if Malfoy hadn’t spilled that love potion and they hadn’t alleviated their rivalry and Harry hadn’t  _ realized _ ...he and Ginny might’ve gotten further in their relationship. But it was too late now.

 

“I’m sorry, Ginny,” Harry mumbled after a break.

 

Ginny gave him a melancholy smile and ducked her head, leaving on a somber note.

 

Harry stayed where he was standing for a long time, contemplating his relationship with Ginny and his feelings for Malfoy. He damn near  _ longed  _ for the Slytherin. It was mad, but Harry always did get attached fairly quickly. He wanted to kiss Malfoy’s killer mouth until the sun came up and, at the same time, he wanted to become the blond boy’s shield. Harry wanted to wrap himself around Malfoy and protect him from his numpty father and all the other knobs that followed Voldemort’s chaotic ways.

 

Harry made his way to Gryffindor Tower feeling very determined. He didn’t know why it hadn’t crossed his mind before, but Harry had the Marauder’s Map, and that meant no one, not even Malfoy, could hide from him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me your thoughts ^^


End file.
